Page 137 of Doctorshipped
“I want it, Grant. But, I can’t. If Shane taught me anything, it’s that I’m worth more. I’m worth everything.”
“You are,” I agree.
“I’m not making a final statement here. I’m not Margot. I just know I can’t stay in a romantic relationship with you right now when I can’t trust you not to withhold the biggest and most important pieces of yourself from me.”
I sit quietly. She doesn’t move. The words,I love you, claw up my throat, begging me to say them. But, I can’t. I won’t. Those words need a better context. They aren’t a bargaining chip. She needs to hear them in a setting that bears witness to my love for her. When my actions have already shouted the truth to her, then I’ll have earned the right to say those precious words to her.
“I understand,” I finally say.
“You do?”
“I do. But I’m not giving up on us. I want you, Jayme. I want us. If you need time, take it. If you need space, I’ll give it. But, I’m not finished fighting for us. I believe we can get past this. I can be the man you need and want me to be.”
“You already are.”
She sniffles. I reach toward the coffee table and hand her a box of kleenex. She grabs one out and our fingers connect for the briefest moment. The slightest touch of her skin sends a shockwave of longing and recollection through me.
“I’d better go,” she says. “Are you okay?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You.”
“Honestly? No. I’m not. This morning I was looking forward to time with you before tutoring, time with you and Fee at dinner. Time with you this evening. Then Margot showed up and everything got ripped away. But, I know my part in all this. I see it clearly. I’ll be okay, Jayme.”
I look over at her.
“I’ll be okay because we are going to be okay,” I add.
“I hope so.”
She doesn’t have one shred of hope in her expression. It’s okay. I’ll hold enough hope for the two of us.
“About tutoring,” she says as she stands from her chair.
I nearly hold my breath. If she quits, Fiona will flounder. There’s no two ways around that reality.
“I won’t abandon Fiona. She and I have a good thing going. But, maybe we should work things out so I don’t bump into you when I show up, for a while anyway.”
“I can stay in my office,” I reluctantly agree.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. That works.”
I stand with her and we walk to the door. We linger in the threshold, where Margot stood only hours ago. The same place I’ve held and kissed Jayme goodnight so many nights.
Jayme looks up at me. “I care about you.”
“I care about you too.”
She surprises me by looping her arms around my waist and holding me. I pull her near, holding onto her like a life raft, like she’s everything to me—because she is. We stay like that, gripping one another, conveying our connection, but honoring our separation. We finally pull apart.
“I’ll see you.” I say. Lame. Lame. Lame.
“Not if I see you first,” she half-teases. And then she walks out the door and down the porch steps. I watch her get into her car and drive away.
