“Us?” he scoffed, phrasing the word like a question that had me leaving the cabinet door open and turning to face him.
I pressed my back against the counter, crossing my arms. “Am I so out of line for asking? Especially after the other night. I thought we were on the same page.”
I remembered our date fondly, and the night we shared. How he held me when we slept and then cooked breakfast for us the next morning. Maybe in the cool light of day he’d regretted how our date ended. My hackles bristled, and I rubbed my hands on my pants, trying to get rid of my excess energy.
“I didn’t want to believe it, you know?” he started, facing away from the table and toward me. His fists were clenched, making the crease between his eyebrows stand out. I had the sudden urge to run to him and smooth out the wrinkle with my thumb, but I wasn’t sure my touch was wanted. “Maybe it was just wishful thinking on your part after you got the inheritance. But I never thought you’d just up and leave without at least talking to me first.”
“Full stop, Mav. What are you talking about?” I propped my hands on my hips and tilted my head, breaking eye contact with him and staring at the floor.
“These.” He grabbed a brochure before tossing it back onto the kitchen table.
“Again. What are you talking about? Right now, I can barely see past the court hearing, and I was hoping you were here to ask me on a second date. That’s painfully obviously not the case, so what’s going on with you?”
I hadn’t meant to sound so snarky, but between his defensive posture and tone, I couldn’t help but cringe.
He motioned to the table, and I groaned, trying not to roll my eyes. “So, when are you leaving? These brochures weren’t all marked to hell the other day.”
“Leaving? Where exactly am I going?”
“I assume on some trip with your friend. Do I at least get an invitation to your going away party?”
“Ah, yes,” I said, unable to keep my voice from quivering. “You know everything, right? So, help me choose.”
I turned away from him and to the cabinet, taking out a mug for him and hoping he wouldn’t notice that my hands were trembling. Filling the cup, I grabbed a spoon for the sugar and put both on the table, watching as he added several scoops to his coffee.
“Barcelona?” I asked, stabbing my finger on the top flyer. “Or maybe Ireland.” I shuffled the papers some more. “Ah. Here we are. Perhaps an Alaskan cruise. Shall I make the departure date before or after my company’s retreat?”
“I wouldn’t know, because you haven’t told me. But it sounds like you have enough on your plate without me adding to it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, stalking back to the cabinet and closing the door with more force than I intended, the cups inside rattling.
“I don’t know. Maybe between the court date and you planning a trip to another country, the last thing you want is to jump into a new relationship.”
“Excuse me?” I said with clenched teeth, barely hearing his words because of the roaring in my ears.
“But hey, it was fun while it lasted, right?”
He stood, turned, and walked out the sliding glass door, leaving it open. I followed, looking at Malibu, who stood and stretched. She shook her head and yawned, trotting outside before turning in a circle and laying on the porch.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, and counting to five, I hoped Bev wasn’t outside to hear the commotion that I knew would come as soon as I called to him. I watched him stomp across the yard while Malibu stayed lying beside me, unwilling to follow or perhaps figuring he’d come back for her. My exasperation was a palpable force, swirling around me like a vortex of emotions I couldn’t control.
“Stop self-sabotaging, Maverick!” I called, crossing my arms as he stopped partway to Bev’s yard and spun to face me. My voice trembled, but I stood tall. “You hide behind your quiet, stoic routine so you never have to feel anything. You’re so damn afraid of taking a chance that you look for any damn excuse to leave.”
He stalked closer, his jaw tightening and his fists clenched. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you. The second something doesn’t go your way, you explode. Do you honestly think yelling is the same thing as being honest? Because it’s not. It’s just noise.”
I took a step toward him, Malibu whining beside me as heat flared in my chest. “At least I say what I’m feeling, even if it is yelling. You just”—I waved my arms in frustration—“shut down. You keep everything locked away, pretending to be the world’s safest man, but you’re a coward, unable to even fathom what we could be together.”
His eyes hardened, but behind the barriers he was fortifying, he looked wounded. I felt guilty, but another part felt justified, hoping he’d understand how hurtful his actions were.
“A coward? How dare you? Do you have any idea how hard this is for me? I had to bury my wife! Do you have any idea what that does to a man? How could you just up and leave after our fucking night together.”
I felt my anger ebbing as anguish crossed his features and he panted in the cool fall evening. One hand went to my chest, and I reached toward him with the other before letting it fall to my side.
“You honestly believe I’m leaving, don’t you? How can you think so little of me?” My chin trembled as I willed myself not to cry, covering my face with my hands and trying to steady my breaths. “You’re using this—and her—as an excuse to keep me out. You’ve built a shrine to your pain and guilt. How would she react if she saw you now? Would she be glad that you’re stuck, unable to move on even though a second chance is standing here in tears!”
I took a step down the porch steps and he resumed his pacing, the two of us circling each other like predators. My knees felt weak and I stopped, wanting to sink down onto the cool grass and forget these last minutes.
“This isn’t casual for me, Mav. If you’re having second thoughts, just tell me. Don’t make up flimsy excuses. If you’d bothered to ask me a single question, you’d know I have no desire to travel. You’d also know that I’m crazy about you. But I refuse to spend my life trying to measure up to your wife.”
