He lifted his hand in what was likely meant to be a sort of sad farewell gesture, and she actually stomped her foot.
No. She wasn’t letting him duck out of this conversation until she understood everything.
“If you want to make this right, you’ll stop moving toward the door and answer my goddamn question.” She pinned him with her glare. “How much did you hear?”
He was staring at her brows, seemingly frozen. If she hadn’t been so upset, she probably would have laughed.
“Thomas?” she prompted.
He visibly started. “Uh…your friend said you loathed me. Because I always scheduled myself with you and left you stranded on the desk. Which is true, and like I said, I’m so sorry, Callie. I wish with every cell in my body I could go back six months and do everything differently, but I can’t.”
“You didn’t hear my response?”
He shook his head. “I left before that. Then I gave you enough time to finish your conversation before coming back.”
If they had any chance of moving past this, they needed to lance the wound. So she pointed to the bed. “You obviously didn’t hear everything. But let’s talk about what you did hear. Take a seat.”
“Okay.” He shuffled across the room and settled on the edge of the mattress, his eyes pained and resigned. “If you want to have this conversation, I’m ready to listen.”
Where to start? After months of frustration and days of affection, where to start?
“Do you deliberately match your schedule requests to mine every month?” At his nod, she sank back into the chair. “You should’ve asked me before doing that, Thomas. I never get the chance to work closely with anyone else, which isolates me at the library. More importantly, it isn’t your right to control my life that way.”
“I know.” He sat perfectly still and held her gaze, not a hint of denial or anger on that pale, grief-creased face. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Will you do it again without asking me first?”
“No.” He shook his head violently. “God, no.”
“Then on to the next issue. You need to give me the opportunity to deal with more complex questions. Without them, I can’t prove my worth to the library or use my training and academic background.” She waited for his nod. “And you have to pay more attention to what’s happening around you while you’re working. If there’s a long line, tell people you’ll get back to them later. Research on the eighteenth century isn’t a life-or-death situation, and it can wait an hour, or even a day or two. Other patrons are important too. So are your coworkers.”
“I understand what you’re saying. I’m not…” He hung his head. “I’m not great at multitasking, but I’ll try. I swear to God, Callie, I’ll try harder.”
The desolation on his face twisted her heart, but she took a gulp of air and forced herself to finish. “Last thing. I know I need to stop measuring myself against other people’s opinions and expectations all the time. But you need to do it more often. Because self-confidence is great, but obliviousness isn’t.”
He flinched, but he met her eyes. “I’ve thought about this all day, and I agree. Completely.”
“Then I’m done.” She let out a slow breath. “That’s all I have to say about work.”
Maybe she was still itchy, but her head felt so light it could almost float away.
She’d done it.
She’d laid out every single point she’d mentally screamed at him for months. She’d done so clearly and succinctly, and she’d made herself understood.
He’d listened. Of course he’d listened. But more than that, he got it, he didn’t appear to hate her for what she’d said, and he was going to try to do better.
With their past tackled, it was time to look to their future. Together.
“Again, I’m so sorry.” He’d risen to his feet, and he took a step toward the door once more. “I wish I’d paid more attention months ago, but I’ll do better in the future. I promise you’ll never have to deal with my bullshit again. But please know that I never, ever wanted to hurt you. You deserve the world, and I…”
His words grew reedy and hoarse. “I wish I were a man you could love. But whoever he is, he’ll be the luckiest man ever to draw breath on this Earth.”
He offered her one last sweet, sad smile. His eyes glowed with the unshadowed adoration she’d seen just that morning, and they lovingly traced every feature of her face. Like she’d fallen from the heavens, his heart’s desire made flesh. Beautiful but too divine to touch.
Then he was walking toward the damn door again.
Really? Really?
