Page 67 of Almost Home
Like she’d wrapped herself into a blanket and dampened every bright, good thing about her.
We’d left things on good terms yesterday, but seeing her seem sosmalljust pissed me right the hell off. I stormed up to her when she got back from her lunch break and forced the issue, though I should’ve taken a vow of silence and the day off if I’d been smart.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine.”
“No. You’re not.”
“Um… I’m fine.”
I gritted my teeth before going further. “Sarah.”
“My parents. They’re pushing. It’s fine. I didn’t get much sleep last night, and that’s my fault. But I’m sorry it’s affecting my work, and I won’t—”
“Don’t apologize for them.”
She reared back like I’d slapped her. “I wasn’t. I was apologizing for me. I didn’t mean to seem like something was wrong.”
“You were apologizing for them. You tried to when you apologized to me, as though what they did can be forgiven. You said they pressured you into marrying your ex, and I’m guessing any number of other things they wanted you to do to toe the line of their expectations. It’s all bullshit, and you shouldn’t have to live that way.” The snap in my words came out sharper than I ever meant for it to, and yet it barely reflected the rising frustration.
She blinked back at me, absorbing the harsh claim. “I won’t apologize for them, Wilder. I apologized for me. And I meant it. I’ve worked a long time to come to terms with what happened between us, and I’m still making peace with them. Every day, I’m trying.”
I gritted my teeth to keep from shaking her. “Why? Why bother? I don’t know the full extent of everything between you, but from what I’ve gathered, their controlling bull—”
“Don’t.” She swallowed hard. “Please don’t. If you want to know, I’ll tell you, but don’t accuse them or me of anything. Please.”
“I’m not trying to accuse anyone. I’m taking what I’ve observed and trying to free you from worrying about them. Don’t go back there in June. Don’t go anywhere you don’t want to, ever.”
She so rarely talked about future plans, and it’d sunken in more and more in the last few days. She lived in an apartment working temp jobs. Didn’t seem to want to teach. Yes, she had friends, but was that enough to keep her here?
And did I want her here long term? Forever?
She inhaled sharply, then exhaled a loud breath. Her voice came out steady and firm when she said, “You can’t free me from that. Only I can. And I’m working on it.”
Guilt and shame twisted in my gut and rose to my cheeks like fire. This day could go to hell, and all the more after I’d hurt her by being a stubborn, judgmental ass. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded, lips pressed firmly together. “Don’t mention it.”
She turned and sat in her seat and immediately began clicking and tapping at her mouse, busy and dismissive of me.
So I left. I stalked through the building, gathered my keys, and left.
Maybe I should’ve said goodbye or asked if I’d still see her tomorrow. She may well want to cancel on me, and if so, I wouldn’t blame her. I’d been a snarling jerk today, and I should’ve kept my damned mouth shut.
I hated the thought that her parents were still creating guilt and a sense of duty in her. She’d done more than enough. I didn’t know the whole story, and I did want to get it eventually, but I knew how they’d left. I knew how they’d responded when we first found out about the baby. I knew how they looked at her like she’d disappointed them—like she’d ruined something. Not just her life, buttheirs.
From the sounds of her conversation, she hadn’t escaped that by moving. They were calling and begging and guilty anddammit,it made me want to strangle them. Or slip into their home one night and remind them she was her own person, an adult, and not theirs to control.
But mostly, I needed to shift gears and focus on getting myself straight. I’d gone way out of bounds with her. We were getting to know each other again and I had no say in her relationship with her parents, much less whether she wasfree.I’d lost that right decades ago, and it would take time to gain it back, if I ever did.
I shook my head at myself and decided to jog home. I needed to burn a little energy before I spent the rest of the night memorializing more of what I’d lost.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Sarah
It took a solid hour for me to calm down enough to think logically. Wilder’s words had burned into my brain, and they’d only grown louder when he’d left. No door slamming or storming out, but certainly no farewell. Anger glowed bright in my chest right next to resounding embarrassment and disbelief.
