Page 90 of Make You Love Me
“I need to know.”
“You’d already know the answer if you’d get Wes out of your head.” I reach into the refrigerator for a bottle of water and hand it to him. Whatever is developing between us doesn’t need this. Just like I didn’t need to go out with Henry to determine how I feel.
“I want to hear it from you.”
To give me time to rally the patience I wasted on Wes, I return to grab another water for me. With more calmness than I feel, the words tumble out. “No. I didn’t kiss him.”
“Why not?”
“Jesus, Jordan. Do you hear yourself?” Flipping the door closed, I stalk past him to my suitcase in the living room. I need to get out of these clothes. Maybe if I can find some level of comfort, I’ll have more energy to prevent another argument.
“I remembered our last break up,” he says suddenly.
A weighted silence blankets the room. To keep it from getting to me, I busy myself with the clothes in my suitcase, seeing none of it. I can’t think, can’t feel. It’s another nightmare he had to relive, and I wasn’t here to explain myself. Not that I have any good reasons for how I treated him.
“It’s why Wes is pissed,” he continues.
My hands still. “I’m surprised you’re not.”
“It wasn’t fun, but I’m glad I remember.”
Weakened by his gratitude for one of the worst days of my life, I drop to my knees. The unforgiving floor emphasizes the dread seeping into my bones. This is where he tells me it’s over. He knows everything now. The good, the bad, and the horrific. I doubt my past transgressions leave any space for building that future I dreamed about.
“That night, you wouldn’t tell me what you wanted from me. You just said no to the ring and shut me out.” He pushes the wheelchair closer and transfers himself to the couch.
“As I said earlier, I’m not proud of how I handled anything with us back then.”
“You also said people change. Do you think you’ve changed?”
He’s gauging me, but I don’t dare lift my eyes. We’re both vulnerable in this conversation and seeing him like that, knowing I’m the cause yet again, is too much.
“In a lot of ways,” I finally say, giving my focus to the hem of my dress to keep tears from forming.
“Tell me.” He pats the cushion beside him, but I haven’t recovered enough to be that close to him. To smell him and feel the warmth of his body while anger and pain push us apart.
“I will,” I lift my gaze to seal the promise and boldly meet his. “But I’d like to change first.”
His midnight eyes somehow darken. “Good.”
“Good?”
“You wore that for him, and it’s getting increasingly harder to see you in it while talking about us.”
“Jordan, I didn’t—” He looks away, disinterested in a clarification. After all, nothing I say about it will make him feel differently. I grab the first sweatshirt and pants I find and escape to the bathroom.
The edges of this imaginary triangle are slicing through us, inch by inch, the longer he believes I followed through on ourplan. After talking with Sydney, it felt wrong to use Henry to placate Jordan’s fears, hurting them both. Saying yes may have been Jordan’s idea, but he didn’t mean it, and his reaction proves it. I thought we could put the whole ordeal behind us. I didn’t expect him to demand details, anger fueling his inquisition.
How will he react when I tell him I didn’t go?
Frustration, fear, and determination bubbles inside me, competing for control as I take hold of the doorknob. By the time I make the short trek back to the living room, the chaos is poised to erupt. Then, I see him, and everything I need to say dissipates into a cloud of smoke.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask. It’s a cowardly move, but the strength I gained from my talk with Sydney earlier and myself in the bathroom has swiveled and holed up somewhere I can’t locate in his presence.
“I’m fine.”
Resigning, I sit beside him and tuck my legs under me. “Did Wes give you a hard time about me?”
“He did, but I can take it. The hardest part was thinking about you doing what I asked you to do. I regret uttering the words.”
