Page 70 of Carter

“I’m not hurting you! You’ve done that to yourself! You’re pissed because I referred to you as my fucking friend? I told you right from the get-go that I wanted us to stay close, that I didn’t want to fuck us up by being more than friends!”

I balled my hands up and retorted, “We were never just friends!”

He shook his head, disagreeing, and pointed at me, leaning forward as he gritted out, “Then that’s your own mistake, Leah.”

“Then why touch me? Why kiss me?”

“Because I’m attracted to you, and you’re attracted to me. That doesn’t mean I’m going to unload my soul to you like you’re my other fucking half. That shit doesn’t exist! Stop deluding yourself with your fairy tale bullshit. Love doesn’t fucking exist the way you think it does. It’s made-up bullshit, designed to fuck people up into having these illusions that there’s more to life. There’s not. There’s nothing out there, Leah. Wake up.”

How had things gone from bad to worse in the blink of an eye? I couldn’t even stand being in the same room as him the way he was talking to me. I saw nothing but a stranger standing in front of me. It was almost like he was trying to be a dick on purpose.

Did he want me to hate him?

Is that what this was?

“I’m not chasing you,” he then said with finality. “You understand? You walk away from this and you better expect I’m done.”

This was getting out of hand.

“How can you not see?” I asked him, and it wasn’t in a nasty way. I was being sincere. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be involved. To help you and be there for you. Why can’t you just involve me? We’ve been through everything together, Carter. What will it take for you to realize we have something?”

He only stared at me, though. The passion that he’d shed only minutes ago was gone, replaced by a stone-cold wall I didn’t believe I would ever penetrate. His scars ran deeper than I ever thought they did. He alienated me so he could keep his secrets with him, and it was me who came to the realization that this was never going to work.

We were too stubborn for our own good.

“You want me to give up on you, don’t you?” I whispered to him just then. “Well then fine. I give up.”

He stiffened just barely before tearing his eyes off me. He walked past me and into his room without another word. In that exact moment, I regretted taking it so far with him. I wished I’d kept my distance from him, careful not to give myself away so heartily and readily. I would have taken it all back. Every moment together, beautiful as it was, I’d have turned the other cheek and moved on.

This kind of heartbreak wasn’t worth it.

*

He was sitting on the couch the next morning in nothing but his jeans, staring on at the television with dead eyes and a frown. I tiptoed out of my bedroom and into the kitchen, hoping he wouldn’t hear me.

I needed to steer clear of him. I couldn’t bear another confrontation.

I put the kettle on and dug out my mug from the cupboard. I made my cup of coffee and leaned my back against the counter, draining every last drop of it. Then I made another cup.

I was dead.

Physically and emotionally, I was drained, and I was hoping this disgusting coffee might help clear the fog.

“Leah.”

I went rigid at the sound of his voice. I barely turned my head to look at him approaching the kitchen. He was slow, as if he too had barely slept, and he stopped in front of the counter. He stared at me with tired eyes, and I could see the surrender in them as he rested his elbows on the counter and exhaled.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I was a dick last night. I’m sorry for shouting at you.”

I shrugged. “It’s okay.”

He looked at me for several moments, licking his lips, and I prepared myself for what he was about to say. “Look… I should have known, right? I should have known you would want more. I was foolish and selfish. I wanted a taste of you, had always wanted it, and I fucked up by taking that extra step. I didn’t realize in the process I would be leading you on, that you would want more from me than I could give you.” He sighed and ran a hand over his hair, staring idly at a spot on the wall. “Everything just seemed good the way it was. No strings attached. Stress free. The fact we were good friends and… I should’ve known it was different for you.”

I didn’t respond.

I had nothing left to offer.

Also because nothing had really changed for him along the way. He kept to the basics of what a friends-with-benefits should have been, and I was the one that failed to meet those conditions.

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