Page 27 of Line Change

I wring my hands, shifting from foot to foot. I hate this. I shouldn’t have said anything.

“I’m sorry.” I stare down at the carpet.

“It’s ok. Look at me.” There’s something in his voice that makes me do as he asked. “I overstepped. No need to apologize. I’m not used to this.” He gestures at me and then himself.

My eyes begin to water. He’s always been so nice to me. Even when I turned him down, he still bought me coffee at least once a week. Somehow he knew what my order was from the coffee shop around the corner from the arena.

He’s off the couch and standing in front of me before I can blink.

“What’s wrong?” He opens his arms, and I hesitate for a second before I step into them and allow myself to be held firmly against his body.

All the tension and stress of the past few days melts away as he holds me. I should not be doing this. We’re friends and roommates, nothing more, but I can’t make myself move out of his embrace.

“My grandmother died. And I’m worried about my siblings. My father …” I ramble through tears.

“I’m sorry. What can I do? When’s the funeral?”

I gulp in a few breaths of air, trying to calm down. “Earlier today. I don’t talk to my family, well, except for my two siblings, though mostly it’s my sister I talk to.”

He’s silent for a few seconds, rubbing my back, and I fight to regain control of my emotions. “I don’t mean this to be insensitive, but can you explain what’s going on. Why all the tears for a family you don’t care about?”

I wipe my face and step out of his embrace, immediately missing the warmth of it. He points to the couch, and we retake our seats. He doesn’t say anything, clearly waiting for me to gather myself.

“My father is a narcissist and extremely controlling. I’ve had no contact with him for years. But I’m worried about my siblings. They’re stuck bending to his will. I’m also worried that my grandmother dying will somehow force me to interact with him again.” I shift in my seat. I hate talking about this.

“Why?”

“Because he let me walk away after he told me I was cut off, which was fine with me. I always figured he was biding his time until he needed me for something or needed something from me.” I snort. “What that would be, I don’t know. But now with his mother dying, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” He nods, remaining silent. “I’m sorry I dumped all my family drama on you,” I say after a few moments, sagging back against the couch, feeling emotionally and physically drained.

I haven’t talked about my family this much ever. I blame the pregnancy hormones. It’s the only logical explanation.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. I had no idea …”

“No one did,” I whisper. “I’m not exactly proud of where I come from. It’s why I changed my last name when I left. I didn’t want to be tied to him.”

“His actions don’t reflect on you,” he says quietly.

“I know.”

“What can I do?”

I rear back. “Do? You don’t need to do anything.”

He studies me. “But you’re upset and worried. I want to help you. Tell me what you need.”

“Nothing. I’m fine. Or I will be. I told you not because I needed you to do anything for me, but because I felt as though I owed you an explanation for why I behaved the way I did. Besides, you’ve already done enough by letting me stay here. Plus, you paid for the movers.” I tick the things he’s done for me off on my fingers. “Not to mention feeding me and my cats, letting me eat your food, and sleep in your bed. You don’t need to do any more for me.”

“I just want to make sure you’re safe and taken care of,” he says, pink coloring his cheeks.

“Why?”

“Because …”

“Because you feel sorry for me because I’m going to be a single mother soon? Because you pity me? I don’t need your pity.” Shut up, Sutton. Stop talking.

“I don’t pity you.” He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before sighing. “You’re my friend. I had the means to help you, so of course I did.”

“So you’d do the same for Hadley? Or Ansley?”