“Okay,” he said, standing and pulling on his boxers. Running a hand through his hair. “You can’t compromise. Okay.”
He didn’t look okay. He finished getting dressed, just as she did.
“Okay,” he said, softer, backing up, hands held in a position of surrender.
She felt each inch between them as it expanded, as though those steps he made were miles.
“Gavin, I’m sorry,” she said. She really was; she didn’t mean to hurt anyone. Especially him. “I will not be the reason you’re unhappy.”
He stopped his backward movement. “You’re just going to be the reason you’re unhappy.”
“So unfair,” she said, though she wasn’t sure if she meant her or him or both of them.
“Or is it that you’ve decided we’ll both be unhappy?” Gavin said, standing still, his hands clenching and
unclenching. “So, we just stop. That’s what you want?”
“We’re going to go back to pretend.” That’s it. That’s
what this had to be.
“You want to be pretend?” he said, like she’d asked if he could please drive her to the moon.
She nodded. “That’s all I can offer you.”
“Great. Fine.” He nodded. Curt. “That’s what I’ll take if that’s all you’re giving. Just know that for me? This isn’t pretend.”
“After the finals, we have to be done.” For everyone. “So I can go off and be happy and you can stay alone
and be miserable?”
No. Not that. “Maybe I’ll be happy alone.” They both knew that was a lie.
“Right. You’ll be happy. All by yourself. Just like always.” He was pissed. She understood.
“We’re just going so fast,” she said. “We’ve known each other for years.”
She said nothing to that. There wasn’t anything to say.
Nothing she could say.
He’d see, though. This was for the best, and he’d see that. Maybe it’d take a little time, since she’d let things get so out of hand, but he’d see it. Then he could be with Cassidy and they could live a long, happy life together and fill the dining room table with kids. Cassidy and Evelyn would be great friends.
Molly would always have Oliver. And Agnes. Even when she moved away with Charlie, she’d still go visit them. It’d be fine.
Not a big deal.
Gavin waited, probably to see if she’d say anything else.
But she wouldn’t. No. She couldn’t.
He closed the door behind him as he walked out of the room.
She stayed completely still as the back door opened and closed. Still as his Escalade started up.
Only as the gravel crunched under his tires did the hiccupped sob break free from the restraints she’d hung on to.
Once that flood opened, the tears just came. And came.
