Page 107 of Guarding My Love

“We haven’t talked in eleven days and that is the first thing you want to know?” he asked.

“Yes or no, Foster?”

“Yes,” he said. “You’re the one that wanted space so maybe I should ask you that question.”

“Ask it,” she said.

“Do you love me?” he asked.

“Yes!” she shouted. “But you know what?”

“What?” he asked. She was almost scaring him. He wasn’t sure he’d seen her this upset or angry before. If he wasn’t so confused over the whole situation, he’d say she never looked more beautiful either.

“I don’t know why you are holding back. I said that to you the last time we talked and you acted like you weren’t.”

“I’m not,” he said. “That’s why you wanted space because you didn’t believe me?”

“No,” she said. “I wanted space because I deserve to be happy and I had to find out if I was really happy or just content.”

Not what he wanted to hear.

For months he worried that this was new for her and if it ran out, she’d realize it wasn’t what she really wanted.

It’d been all but shoved in his face enough times of the type of man she normally dated.

It wasn’t someone younger who wore jeans and sneakers to work and whose idea of a date was throwing sandwiches and chips in a bag and jumping on the boat.

“Have you figured out what you are?”

“I don’t know,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “I was happy until I needed space and now I’m miserable.”

“Then why did you stay away for so long?” he asked.

“Because I was hoping that you’d figure out what I needed without me telling you and then I had to guess if you’d just give it to me because I said I wanted it rather than you wanting to do it.”

He shook his head. “Will you yell at me if I say I’m confused again?”

She snorted. “No. I’m confused too.”

She sat down at her table and he did the same thing.

He wanted to pull her into his arms and hug her but was afraid of touching her until she said what she needed to.

The last thing he wanted to do was pressure her.

She’d had enough of that in her life.

“Can you just tell me what it is you need or want?” he asked. “Let me decide if it’s something I want to do or say—” It just hit him. “Shit. I’m an idiot.”

“Why are you?” she asked.

“West told me weeks ago I was lucky I wasn’t in the doghouse for not saying I love you back to you. The actual words. I should have listened but didn’t. I figured you knew and maybe didn’t need me to say them.”

“I do know,” she said.

“But you need the words. I do love you, Charlotte. I’m sorry that I haven’t said it.”

“Why haven’t you?”

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