Page 65 of Strange Lad
“Fine.” He sets a spoon by the plate, and I notice only one.
“Are you not eating?” I try not to frown, but it happens anyway.
Shaking his head, he runs his hand through his slightly damp hair and sighs. “Not hungry. I—” He stops and scrubs his face now. What’s going on? “Look. Last night…you weren’t supposed to seethat.”
Ah. So he’s embarrassed that I walked in on him having some sort of breakdown. There’s no need for him to be, though. I’d like to think he knows I’d never judge him for something as natural as human emotion, but heisa Sawyer, after all. And that whole family tends to clam up when things get hard. How do I approach this?
“We can’t keep avoiding things that make us uncomfortable.”
“I’m not,” he snaps at me, then growls and folds his arms. “Okay, I am.”
“I don’t think less of you. That’s not going to happen.”
He nods, then jerks his chin towards the plate. “Eat.”
I roll my eyes but do as he says. Plopping down in the chair, I take a bite and moan a little as my right eye twitches. “It’s good,” I say.
“Are you going to be okay? I have group in a few hours, and I need to go home to feed the boys.”
I mean, Iwillbe okay, but I don’t like how cagey he’s being. We fucking cuddled last night. That needs to be talked about. Hell, everything needs to be talked about. I can’t keeppretending these problems don’t exist. I can’t keep pretending it’s all fine. What if he relapses because I let it go? What if he does somethingworsebecause my lack of prying translates to lack of caring?
With how he feels about Phoenix and his misunderstood view of abandonment, I don’t want to be lumped in with him, too. Because I do care. I care so much. Taking a few more bites and deciding what the best course of action is, I settle on the obvious.
“Let me take you to group.” That way, I can be with him and make sure nothing…untoward happens.
“It’s okay.”
What. The. Fuck.
“You don’t want me to?”
Those big arms tighten where they’re folded across his chest. “I need to be alone. I’m in my head. I’ll go to group so Kristen doesn’t freak out, and then…”
And then, what?
“So we had one argument—it wasn’t even an argument. You were valid and had every right to be upset, Oli. Let me help. " I try that.
“You can’t help with this,” he mutters. “We’ve been inseparable ever since you came back, Jorge. I need some space.”
What is happening? Is he dumping me? Are we breaking up? My spoon clatters to the table as my fingers go limp. “Okay,” I croak. “How much space?”
He backs away from the kitchen, backs away fromme. “You’ll be okay, right? And if you need anything…you can call Phoenix. Right?”
This fucker is still walking away from me. I shoot to my feet. “I don’t want Phoenix. I want you. But clearly, you’re not going to let that happen. Are we really that bad, Oli? Honestly. I’ve been right here, waiting and waiting.”
He flinches, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Seriously?”
Another flinch. I ball up my fists, something ugly taking root in my chest. “I can’t do this with you right now.” He turns on his heels, pulls his car keys out of his pocket, andleaves.
He left me.
My breaths come out sharp and fast while I clench and unclench my fists, my jaw working as I grind my teeth. Honestly, this is ridiculous. He’s allowed to want space. Not everyone wants to crawl inside another person’s body and live there like I do. But, fuck, does it hurt. Feels like he doesn’t want me at all because I admitted I knew something bad happened to him.
What the hell did he think would happen?
That I’d just let him cry in my kitchen all night and notdoanything? Not try? If that’s the case, he must not know me very well or at all. I go over to the table, pick up the plate of chorizo and eggs, and throw them into my sink. The sharp shatter of the ceramic echoes in my ears, but I ignore it. He fucking left me. It’s a constant loop in my brain.
