Page 77 of Fumbled Beginning

Not the reaction I was hoping for.

He remained quiet as I stepped toward him in my black lace corset that I had spent a fortune on. He didn’t move or seem affected, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“I thought I would surprise you.” I tilted my head to the side. “Is everything okay?”

His hair was messy, his clothes were rumpled, and he seemed stressed.

“Rylee, I…” He looked like there was something on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to say. Instead, he scrubbed a hand down his face and shook his head. “It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted. I was looking forward to coming home and crashing.”

I tilted my head, trying to comprehend what was happening. He was on edge and looking everywhere but at me. But I’d been drinking, so those margaritas and shots might have made me imagine things.

“Let me help you relax before you crash.” I trailed my mouth along his jaw and moved my hands to his zipper. His hand flew out and grabbed my wrist. I looked up; there was no smile on his lips, no warmth in his touch. He was completely turned off, and my heart fell into my stomach.

He let out a deep sigh and dropped my arm. “Rylee, I can’t do this right now with you. I’m sorry.”

He’d been on an airplane for the past few hours, so maybe he was a little tired, but JP was always in the mood. He moved around me, went to the bathroom, and started unpacking his toiletry bag. Was he honestly going to just get ready for bed?

“Did something happen?” I asked, crossing my arms across my chest. He was right across the room, yet he felt so far away. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not.” He leaned against the sink and pressed a hand to his forehead. “I went and saw Caroline today and it was an emotional visit.”

That was not what I was expecting.

“I didn’t know,” I said, unsure of what I was supposed to say. Was I supposed to comfort him? Give him space? I had no idea what was going on in his head. “I thought you were going to a basketball game with your brother.”

“I did, but then I drove to Saratoga and saw her this morning.”

He went to see her and didn’t tell me. Was he having second thoughts about us? Regrets? Because it felt like he didn’t want me here, or maybe it was me that felt like I didn’t belong.

“Okay.” I swallowed, gripping the doorframe for support. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” he said between brushing his teeth. “I’m drained and just want to go to bed.”

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay.” He walked back into the bedroom, keeping his gaze on mine. “I’m devastated right now, and the last thing I want is to take my pain out on you.”

“Please don’t shut me out. Not after all the progress we made.”

“I’m not shutting you out. I just need a minute. Can you give me a little breathing room here? Is that too much to ask?”

He was pulling away from me, and I was doing everything I could to pull him closer. I was scared that I was losing him, but that didn’t give him the right to treat me like this.

“So, we’re back to this again? You asking me for space and understanding. I thought we agreed to try. How is this trying?”

“Please don’t pressure me right now. Just show some respect, let me get some sleep, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

I stepped back and stared at him, feeling the mortification and sadness wash over me. I came here tonight because I missed him and was excited to see him; instead of making love like I planned, I was left wondering where we stood. Tears welled up in my eyes and my chin quivered with humiliation.

I backed up into the bedroom and searched for my clothes. I needed a shield or an armor, some type of protection. It felt like he took a baseball bat to my damn heart.

Knowing that I might always come in second place wasn’t a great feeling. Every insecurity I had about our relationship just came and punched me right in the gut.

He gripped the ends of his hair and blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m not trying to be an asshole; please tell me you understand.”

I was tempted to say something about how wrong this was, but I wasn’t that girl.

“Do you want me to go?” I asked, shifting on my feet. “I don’t have my car, but I can call an Uber.”

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