He stares at me like I’m the dumbest person alive. Maybe I am, because I shouldn’t be scared of what I want coming true. I don’t want to be the reason that she never gets to experience what life outside of this stupid town looks like.
He looks at me for a long time. “It’s ok to want her, you know. To ask for things that are selfish,” he points out.
“Not like this. She deserves so much more than what I could ever offer her.”
“And what can’t you give that to her?”
“I don’t know. A long life, kids, I’m almost forty-three, I’m closer to retirement than she is to being my age. She deserves whatever she wants.”
“And you can’t give her what she wants?” He asks, ignoring the first part of my sentence.
“I want to, but I don’t deserve to be that person for her,” I say, taking a slow sip of my drink.
“Why not? Because you’reoldor because you don’t fit the narrative that everyone tries to paint? You deserve happiness, and if she gives you that, then I think you should try to keep it. Who cares what everyone else thinks, including Briar? I have never seen you like this before. You’re taking random days off work, for fuck’s sake, and you actually leave the station before dark. I don’t know about you, but that seems like something worth fighting for.”
“What if I can’t give her what she wants?”
“Have you tried asking her what that is? Because maybe it’s not what you think,” he points out. I let out a defeated sigh, because he’s right—I haven’t asked her. So technically, I don’t know what she wants or if I can give it to her. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’m not saying you have to have that conversation right now, but sooner rather than later, would probably be a good idea,” he says, and I nod.
When I get back to the station, Sloane is asleep, Mocha watching over her. The blanket is pulled up to her chin, her phone resting against the books as a movie plays. I turn her phone off and take her shoes off before going over to my deskand getting back to work. The first thing I do is send all the documents I have over to Arnold.
I work for a while longer, just doing some housekeeping things before closing my computer for the day. I find myself admiring her, the conversation from earlier just playing on repeat in my head.
I know that we need to talk about us. But I honestly don’t know how. I don’t know what to say to her.
Hey, I think that I’m in love with you. And even though you shouldn’t, I really think that you should stay here, let me take care of you, and not leave me in a few weeks.
No thanks.
“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she whispers. I shake my head of my thoughts, my eyes finding hers as she stretches and slowly sits up.
“It’s ok, I just got done, anyway,” I say with a small smile.
She nods, collecting her stuff before standing up and hooking Mocha to his leash. “Ready to go?” she asks with a yawn. I stand up wordlessly, grabbing my things before locking up my office and guiding her out.
“Can I ride with you?” she whispers, looking over at her car and then at my truck.
“Of course, we can come get it tomorrow.”
We drive in silence, the words that I want to say right on the edge of my tongue, but I can’t get them out, no matter what I tell myself.
“Did you have a good day?” she asks, breaking the silence.
“Yeah, I did. Did you?” I say, reaching over and taking her hand in mine.
She nods, and we fall back into silence for a few minutes.
“You hungry?” I ask, and she once again just nods. “What would you like?” I ask, and she thinks about it for a few minutes.When I think that she’s not going to make a decision, she surprises me.
“Pasta,” she says, and I nod, not questioning it.
“Ok, order takeout. We can pick it up and take it home with us,” I say, and she nods, looking back down at her phone.
“Olive Garden sounds good. What would you like?”
“Just the spaghetti with meatballs,” I answer, and she nods, adding it to the cart.
I reroute us. Driving us to the other side of the city so we can pick it up.
