“I thought you didn’t lie,” she dryly cuts me off.
“What do you mean?”
“If we weren’t going to marry for another couple of years, then why do you have my abuela’s ring in your sock drawer, Alexander?”
Fuck… Of course she found it. She was the one who cleaned up after the messy search at my place. She’s been sitting on this for weeks, knowing I planned on proposing soon.
I don’t really know what I can say except the truth, so I stare at the table and explain, “I’d envisioned a long engagement. I liked the idea of calling you my fiancée for a while. You’d be my wife for the rest of ourlives, so I thought maybe we could have two years of that first. Now you’re proposing that we skip the engagement altogether to become my wife only in name, not in actual function. I can’t do it, Andrea.”
Her eyes are moist again, but she fights off her emotions by blinking a few times. “It’s that, or I’m lying, Lex, so you pick which one sits better with you.”
I sigh, annoyed that I have to lay it all out for her to see. She’s smart enough to understand where I’m coming from, but lets her emotions dictate instead. “Let’s say we do this, get married, and I lose the trial. What then, Andrea?”
“Then nothing. My love for you won’t abruptly vanish if that happens.”
And now she’s being unreasonable again. “You can’t be serious. If I’m condemned, you’ll have to move on. I’m not letting you waste your life away on me.”
“That isn’t for you to decide. It’smylife. I’ll do whatever I want with it.”
“I won’t let you. This is ridiculous. Why can’t you see how absurd you’re being?”
“I’m not being absurd. Regardless of the trial’s outcome, I’ll stay by your side. It’s you or no one, Lex.”
She means it. She really fucking means it. Damned be that woman… And damned be my love for her, which makes it so hard to say, “I won’t let you. If the trial is lost, then we’re done. You won’t visit me anymore, and I won’t contact you again.”
My words work on her, fear flinching in her expressive eyes. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“I would and I will. All I need to do is remove you from my list, and you won’t be able to see me ever again.”
She observes my face intently, trying to gauge how serious I am about the threat. I mean every word, which she seems to understand.
“Lex, please don’t,” she practically begs.
Of course, I’d rather keep seeing her, but I can’t let her waste the rest of her life on me. “I’m sorry, Andrea. If you can’t be reasonable, I’ll do it for both of us.”
“You’re doing it again,” she protests, her voice laced with heartache. “You’re deciding for me, out of some stupid notion that you’re not worthy of me. Lex, please… This isn’t what I want.”
A spark of anger ignites in my chest as I say, “I’m not watching you come week after week, clinging onto me when there’s no hope left. I’m not selfishly keeping you when there’s so much better for you out there.”
“If we lose thetrial, we can appeal! There’s always hope, Lex. And for as long as I breathe, I’ll have hope for you. But if you do this—if you cast me out of your life, I’ll—I’ll hate you. For as long as I breathe, I’ll fucking hate you.”
“I know. But after some time has passed, you’ll come to see that I did it for you. You’ll forgive me, and that’ll be consolation enough for me.”
“God, you’re so fucking conceited,” she spits out. “Always so fucking certain you know better than anyone else. But you’re wrong, Alexander.”
The spark has turned into a flame, small but searing. The fact that she can’t try to see past her feelings for one second is becoming infuriating. “Only time can tell who’s right.”
“I don’t need time to know. All of this might have changed your perspective of us, but not mine. Regardless of what happens in the future, I’ll still love you, I’ll still want to be a part of your life,” she utters.
“That’s your mistake to make, Andrea, not mine. I won’t enable you by feeding your delusions that we can make this work.” I might have been more cruel than needed, but like her at this moment, I’m not in full control of my thoughts.
She stands up, so mad at me that her hands shake. The sadness in her eyes and the conflicted tear that runs down her cheek are a stark contrast to the vehement resentment of her expression. “Fuck you,” she hisses, distraught. “Fuck you for not respecting my own choices. Fuck you for thinking you’re doing the right thing.”
She picks up her coat and slips it on, glaring down at me the whole time.
The idea of her leaving doesn’t sit right with me. Not when we’re pissed at one another. But there won’t be any reasoning today, not with our emotions as high as they are. That’s why I ask, “Are you still coming tomorrow morning?”
Since she came alone, she suggested she would sleep at her parents’ tonight, then return in the morning before heading back to Seattle.
