He doesn't respond or look at me. His hands continue to clean mine.
"Are you angry with me?" I whisper. I get nothing out of him. Absolutely nothing. "I'm sorry, August. I’m just confused. We’ve only talked once since… everything.”
"So, you haven't been ignoring me?" He cocks an eyebrow and then tosses the cotton ball on the table. Grabbing a Band-Aid, he places one on each cut. When he's done with that, he grabs one last cotton ball, pouring peroxide on it, and looks up at me. "Don't move."
The coolness from the liquid hits me, my skin soaking it in, and the slow burn starts to build up. I squeeze my eyes shut. A tiny, cool breeze brushes past the cut and when I open my eyes, August's lips are pursed as he slowly blows on it to calm it down.
He stares at the cut, and I stare at his lips. I lift my eyes to look at him. He’s still focused on the cut. The lighting in his house makes his eyes appear like the night sky.
"Alright. All done." He pulls back, giving me no attention, and cleans up the table.
I go back to his question. "I wasn't ignoring you. I mean, not in the way you probably think… I wasn’t expecting any of it. And then in the morning.”
August braces his elbows on both knees and keeps his focus forward. He nods his head. The tiniest nod you wouldn't notice if you weren't staring at him the way I am.
I push my hair behind my ears and then place my hands between my legs. My gaze stays on him. "Please say something."
"What do you want me to say? You want me to say that I was confused when I entered an empty apartment? That I felt used?"
A razor-sharp pain shoots through my chest, and my heart shatters at those words. That’s the last thing I ever want him to think. Never in a million years would I do that to him. "I didn't use you."
"Then why did you leave? Were you embarrassed because you slept with me? The one person you purposefully pushed away for years. The one person who wasalwaysthere for you, no matter what."
"I left because of you." I point to him, confused.
He left. I left because he was gone, I was embarrassed, and I ran to Hailey. I open my mouth to continue, but he gets to it first.
"I get it. It was a one-time thing, and we're going to go back to the way it was. Bullshit banter and pretending not to like each other. You want that? Then that's fine by me." He starts to pace the room.
My head lifts to watch his every movement. My heart picks up at the thought of not having him, the thought ofhimpushing me away this time. This is how he felt. This is how he felt that night I told him I didn't love him.
I don't fight the tears. That raw emotion lifting in my chest and to my throat. “Youleft!”
He stops, his brows knitted, mouth agape. “What? I didn’t leave.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I start to build that wall back up from the frustration of this entire situation. “I woke up, and you were gone.”
He strides up to me, holding up his hands, closing his eyes like he’s thinking about his next words. “I didn’t leave you.”
I stammer. “What do you mean?”
“I went downstairs to get us coffee. I left you a note. You’re telling me you never saw the piece of paper I left you on your coffee table?”
My mind wanders back to that hectic morning. I was occupied with getting my clothes, feeling overwhelmed by everything, and needing someone to talk to. With focusing on the bakery and classes at the studio, I’m barely home, and when I am, I walk straight to my bed and sleep.
Life has been chaotic. I didn’t stop to breathe or think. I assumed the worst because that’s what I do.
August releases a shaky breath, the small sound cutting through my thoughts. Glassy eyes stare at me, the heavy blue reminding me of a hurricane. “I can’t do this again.”
“What?” I feel my heart drop in my stomach.
“Whatever this is.” He gestures between us. “I told you that I love you, and you left. I know now that it wasn’t the same situation this time, but when you were gone, it took me back to that night. I thought maybe you needed to be by yourself and think about what I said. But the next day.” He shakes his head before inhaling a deep breath and blowing itout. “You acted like there was never anything between us. Not even a friendship.”
All I can do is stand here, because I’m afraid that if I try to speak, all that will come out is a sob. I clench my fists at my side. There’s a lodge in my throat. I’m reminded of a time when my self-esteem was at its lowest.
I was accepted into college, going for my finance degree, and Mom was telling me there was no point in going. I’m better off marrying a man who will take care of me. She didn’t believe I could achieve anything big in my life.
Do you really think that’s the right choice for you? Why finance? There’s no point, the degree will be useless.
