“I can’t take it with me,” he said.
“Then don’t go.” I reached for him.
His eyes closed.
I had never seen Drew look like that.
Like I had put my hands into his chest and pulled.
“Don’t,” he said.
“Drew.”
“No.” His eyes opened, and they were glassy now, though no tears fell. “You mean you don’t want me to leave right now. That’s different.”
“It’s not.”
“It is.”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
His mouth tightened.
“Then you should’ve known before your mother told you I was a bigger prize than Vale.”
I recoiled.
He hated himself for it immediately. I saw it. But he didn’t take it back.
Maybe because some part of him believed it.
Maybe because some part of me had earned it.
“You never wanted to be with me anyway,” he said.
“That’s not true.”
“I had to twist your arm. Twist your heart. Twist your body.” His voice went lower. “And I’m good at that. I know I am. I know how to get what I want when your pulse is racing and your mouth is soft and you forget to hate me for ten minutes.”
“Stop.”
“But it shouldn’t be that hard.” He looked at me then, and the devastation in his face finally broke through all the calm. “It should not be this hard to be chosen.”
My tears came faster.
I couldn’t stop them now.
“I choose you.”
He shook his head.
Too small.
Too sad.
“No, Texas.” His voice broke just enough to ruin me. “You’re scared of losing me. That’s not the same thing.”
He put the gift on the bed.
