I dreaded it.
“Coffee.” Cutler handed me a to-go cup and grabbed my bags to take them to his truck.
I bent down and said goodbye to Meatball before hurrying out to join him. The sun was just starting to come up, and he’d loaded my luggage and had my door open.
When I climbed in, he reached over and buckled my seat belt.
“Hey,” he said, pausing and waiting for me to look at him.
“Hey.”
“We’re not going to do this big sad goodbye, all right?” He kissed my hair and then closed the door and got in the driver’s seat. He was quiet as he drove toward the airport.
“So are we just going to say nothing?”
He chuckled. “Of course not. I’m just saying, let’s not make it harder than it has to be. We’ll talk all the time, and we’ll see how it goes. There are airplanes, we can visit. No need for goodbyes.”
I nodded. “Okay. And of course we’ll talk. We’ve always talked every day. Why would that change now?”
“It won’t.”
How is he so calm?
I was freaking out on the inside, and ready to fall apart, and he appeared to be completely…unbothered.
“You’re doing it, Jeege.” He pulled into the passenger pickup area at the airport.
“Doing what?”
“Overthinking. Spiraling. I know you well, and that’s what’s happening.”
I was tired and grumpy and sad. I was in no mood to be analyzed.
“I’m not overthinking. I’m thinking a normal amount. And you don’t seem to be thinking at all,” I grumped when he put the car in park.
“Is that what you want? Would it be easier for you if we get in a fight right before you leave?” He raised a brow, the corners of his lips twitching the slightest bit.
“Is this funny to you?” I hissed, pushing the passenger door open.
He beat me to the back of the truck and grabbed my bags. Was he in a hurry to get me out of here now? A few days ago he’d pushed to come with me to get me settled in, and now he was basically dropping me at the curb and telling me that we weren’t going to say goodbye.
“It’s not funny. I’m trying to make this easier for you.”
“Easier for me? Or easier for you?” I gave him a look as a whistle blew from behind me.
I whipped around to see an older man in a security shirt watching us.
Seriously? Hardly anyone was here this morning—it was completely unnecessary.
“It’s not easy for me, Jeege.”
“Well, it’ll be easier to date with me out of your hair,” I said, feeling a lump form in my throat as tears blurred my eyes.
“Okay, you really do want to pick a fight, don’t you.” He placed his hands on my shoulders. “I love you. I fucking love you. I’m trying to do the right thing here for you. Not for me. For you.”
I blew out a breath. “Well, you don’t have to do the right thing now. You’re a free man. I don’t live here, remember?”
This surge of emotions had me completely off-kilter.
