Page 30 of Forgetting Rafe Thomas
Luna checks her phone for the time and frowns.
“What’s up?”
“Well, I was hoping for a status update from Natasha about the exhibit, but it’s okay. I’ll send her an email before bed later.” She puts the phone back onto the coffee table and takes her move. For some reason unknown to my conscious mind, I decide this is a good way to begin a conversation about work.
“I’m working on a new game with Veronica Reynolds. Actually, she has it right now, which is why I was free to come here,” I say and finish the last bite of my sandwich.
“Another project?” her brow furrows as if this is a surprise to her, and her tone surprises me.
“Yeah?” I ask, suddenly unsure if it actually is my job.
“You’re working on multiple projects now?” The worry in her tone cannot be missed this time.
“Well, yeah. It’s my job. I’ll be doing it until I retire.” I’m slightly confused by the look of utter annoyance that crosses her features. This isn’t new. I’ve wanted to be an app and game programmer for as long as she’s known me, but judging by the scowl forming on her face, I get the impression she thought it was a one and done situation. Then what, though? What did she think I’d do with the rest of my life?
“I get that it’s your job, Rafe. Maybe a lot of people would disagree, but my work is actually important to more people than teenage boys and men living in their parents’ basements,” she snaps, seemingly out of nowhere.
“Wait…what?” I ask as adrenaline swarms my body.
Luna sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “You act like your app thing is the most important thing in the world. Like my work is just putting things in a display for old people to look at or something.”
Ok, now I’m annoyed. “That is not fair. Ineversaid that. I think what you do is incredibly important. It’s documenting and cataloging history, which is foundational for the success of future generations. But that doesn’t mean what I do is somehow just games for kids. The one I’m working on right now is an educational app for kids with—”
“Rafe, that is not the point. The point is that our ideas about what should be priorities are still so different.”
I’m so lost. I have no idea what is happening. One minute, I was eating a sandwich and losing at a board game, and now we’re in the beginning stages of an argument I’m not even sure I know the rules for, let alone how to diffuse it.
And it all goes downhill from there.
“Besides, it’s not like you eversayanything. You assume I know what you’re thinking.” Luna crosses her arms, cutting herself off from me even more.
“Well, I mean…I didn’t think I’d have to explain to you what a job entailed. I thought you would naturally know that I would have multiple projects going, especially since I’m trying to do my own start-up.”
“Yes, I know howjobswork, Rafe.”
I’m digging deeper and I don’t have a shovel. How can a man dig a hole this deep without the use of a tool? I’m about to defend myself again, try to explain my way out of this when I realize…this actually isn’t my fault. And what she said wasmean.
I stand and brush crumbs from my shirt, determined not to let her pretty face and the way I feel about her dictate my actions. She can feel how she feels, right or wrong, but that doesn’t mean I have to sit here and be ridiculed because she can’tlistento me when I do speak.
After I put my dishes in the sink, I grab my jacket and slip it on.
Her scowl deepens. “Where are you going?”
I take a deep breath to control my sudden urge to loudly defend myself. Instead, I say, “I think I should go down to my cottage for a little while before we end up in an argument. We’ve spent a lot of time together, and we have things to work out that are difficult. I think we need a few minutes to sort it out apart.”
All of the fight leaves her body.
“You’re leaving?” Her eyes search my face, seeking something.
“I didn’t say I was leaving. I’m going down to my place for a while so we can think before this goes too far. I’d never leave Ireland or you, Luna.” When I reach the front door and turn the knob, I remember the promise we made, that we would tell each other one thing we liked and one thing we disliked about ourday. Since I’m not so sure I’ll be seeing her again today, I go for it.
With another deep sigh, I say, “I loved connecting more deeply with you today. Spending time with you has always made me happy, but I hate that I always seem to bring out the part of you that doesn’t trust others, especially me.” I wait for a moment, but she says nothing. Her eyes are locked on the area rug between us, so I turn the handle and open the door.
She doesn’t try to stop me.
What’s worse is, I didn’t expect her to.
Chapter Thirteen
