Brad stood up, too, and he grabbed my arm. “No, Caroline. Don’t leave. I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes, not wanting to see the other customers’ faces as we turned to stare at the little drama playing out between Brad and me. My face burned, and I had the urge to flee, if only to get myself away from this scene. But I didn’t. Slowly, I turned back around and glared at him.
“Don’t grab my arm,” I hissed. “And don’t talk to me like that.”
Brad frowned, and his hand fell away.
I let out a long breath, but I didn’t let my gaze waver. Finally, Brad nodded.
When he had shown up at my parents’, a part of me had sympathized with him. It was clear he had believed we were only taking a break that summer, while I had moved far beyond the stale remnants of our former relationship.
Any lingering guilt had left the moment he grabbed me. Despite his mild-mannered façade, another side of him lurked just beneath the surface, steering the conversation, calculating his own position. Though I had lived with this man for a few years, I had only recently begun to understand how he worked.
Did he really want me back, or was he going after me because I was with someone else? I had a hard time believing Brad had truly been happy with the relationship we had before I left.
I sat back down in my seat, all nervousness gone. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the waitress turn back from her path to our table. Brad slid onto the bench across from me and smoothed his hair.
“I guess I didn’t realize you would move on so quickly,” said Brad. “It caught me off guard.”
“I didn’t see this coming, either,” I said quietly.
“What could you possibly have in common with a guy like that?”
This was a question I had asked myself more than once, and I still didn’t have a clear answer other than this: Being with Niklas felt right. I frowned, which seemed to encourage Brad’s commentary.
“He doesn’t come off as much of a thinker. What can you talk about with a guy who has sports on his mind all day long? You don’t even like hockey.”
I opened my mouth to defend Niklas but stopped myself. If Niklas were sitting there, he wouldn’t defend himself. I was pretty sure he’d ignore the insults and even admit his own faults. This was something I could learn from him. I took a deep breath and focused on why I came to meet Brad in the first place.
“I didn’t come here to discuss Niklas,” I said, my voice sounding more controlled than I felt. “But I am sorry about the way things went at my parents’ place. I didn’t know you were coming.”
Brad looked out the window. “I just can’t believe you’re going for someone like him. You’re driving his car, and you probably don’t have a job. Dependent is the nicest way to describe that arrangement. What will you do when he dumps you for the next woman lining up outside his bedroom?”
I froze. His comment hit me like a physical blow to my stomach, and I hunched over, trying to contain the doubts his words unleashed. Because now that I had entered Niklas’s hockey world, these worries had gained traction in my mind.
I and Niklas had come too far for me to doubt his feelings, but feelings weren’t enough to make a relationship work. And if our relationship ended, where would I be?
Right now, I could probably still make it on my own. But if I followed him to Sweden or took a job I didn’t want, just to stay in Detroit, I’d be back where I started with Brad.
No. I’d be in a worse position than I was with Brad. Splitting up with Niklas would be far, far worse in ways that had nothing to do with my financial position.
The waitress started toward us again, but I met the woman’s eyes and shook my head. I didn’t want to sit through an hour of this. I turned back to Brad and took a long, steadying breath before I spoke.
“You’re trying to hurt me, Brad, and it’s working,” I said, “but the fact that you’d say things like you have here and at my parents’ is one of the reasons we’re not together. And we won’t be.”
Brad’s expression lost some of its sharpness. He leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“I’m sorry,” said Brad softly. “I just can’t believe we’re really over.”
How could you not know?I wanted to snap back. I had moved most of my belongings into my parents’ basement before I left—hadn’t I made my break from him clear? But there was no use saying the words. Brad would have an answer for that, too.
He looked repentant, but I couldn’t help but be cynical. How much of his reaction was still a calculated play on my emotions? I gazed at him across the table, looking for clues. Did Brad even understand this part of himself? I doubted he did. In fact, I had probably always given him more credit than he was due.
I glanced over at the door, focusing on my escape.
Brad frowned and reached into his work bag. He pulled out three small jewelry boxes and lined them up in the center of our table. They were all gifts from my parents, things I had forgotten to take out of the safe in our place before I left. Silently, I stuffed them into my purse, trying not to let the relief show on my face. I could leave now.
“Brad, we were over when I left,” I said.
