Tobias looks over at me for a brief second before looking back at the road. “You can tell me anything, you know. I won’t get mad.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
He hums. “You might not trust me right now, but I hope in the future you will. I want you to know that you can tell me anything and everything. No matter how small or big it is. I won’t judge you.”
I stay silent and look outside the window. Everything is getting more and more foresty looking.
“How much longer?” I ask.
“About six hours. We can do all six today and get in there late, or we can do another three, then finish it off tomorrow,” he says. “What do you want to do?”
Am I ready to face Aiden tonight or would it be better to see him tomorrow?
“I don’t know,” I mumble.
I want to see him, but I know he is going to take one look at me and have a million questions. Am I prepared for it?
“How about we drive for another three hours and talk about it then?” he suggests. “Or if you want me to make the decision, I can.”
“You can,” I say before I can stop myself. “I’m tired of making decisions.”
All my life it’s been decision after decision. It won’t hurt to let him make this one for me.
“Then we’ll drive there tonight,” he says, and my heart stops beating for a second.
Shit.
I thought he was going to pick to get there tomorrow. What was I thinking allowing him to decide?
“Sound good?”
“Yep!” I lie as nerves flood through me.
We stay silent for several minutes, and I fidget with my fingers the whole time, trying to keep my mind off of getting there tonight. About seeing Aiden tonight.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
I hum, not trusting myself to say anything. Silence fills the cab once again, and I take a deep breath.
I can’t help but ask. “Do you think Aiden is going to be mad at me?”
“Why do you think he’s going to be mad at you?”
I shrug. “Don’t know.”
Because I haven’t been taking care of myself. Because I’ve told so many lies in the past week and it’s eating me alive. Because he has been nothing but good to me, and I’ve been terrible.
There are so many reasons why he would be mad at me. He has every right to be.
“I don’t think he’s going to be mad at you. Concerned? Yes. But I don’t think he’ll be angry,” Tobias says after some time. “Are you that worried?”
“No.” Another lie.
“Don’t lie to me. I don’t like it when people lie. If you find yourself about to, just don’t say anything. There are consequences when you lie.”
“Like what?” I ask.
There haven’t been any consequences for me lying yet. Well, the guilt, but besides that there hasn’t been anything.
