Page 67 of The Weight Of Falling
He’s looking at me with a confused furrow between his eyebrows. “What truth?”
“If you want to cut me out of your life, you don’t have to make up an excuse about being worried for my safety.”
“I’m not making it up,” he says evenly. “Why would you say that?”
A huge lump of mortification abruptly forms in my throat. I realize with a flicker of shock that my behavior isn’t so different from Farah’s. Here I am chasing him, refusing to accept that he wants to end this. I don’t want to be that person.
“You know what, never mind,” I say, waving my hand as if I can brush the words away. “We said the whole thing was fake. And it was. It still is. We’ll simply end it a little sooner than we planned. It’s fine.”
“Kenzie—”
“Really, it’s okay. Who cares what your reasons are?”
I hate how small my voice sounds. I hate how he’s reduced me to this. Or have I reduced myself to this?
Joel pins me with an unrelenting stare. “Why do you think I’m lying to you?” he asks slowly.
He’s not going to let it go.
Just rip the bandage off, I tell myself. It’ll sting, but I’m already raw. What’s one more layer of hurt? I have nothing to lose at this point. My dignity might as well join the scraps of my self-esteem already littering the floor.
“I see the women you’ve dated.” My voice cracks, and I take a moment to regain my composure. “They’re beautiful, confident, and self-assured. And I’m...I’m none of those things. So I get it. I’m not enough for you.”
Not sexy enough. Not adventurous enough. Not pretty enough.
He closes his eyes briefly, as if in pain. “Kenzie, that is so far from the truth. You feel more real to me than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“You’re not making sense,” I say, frustration leaking into my voice.
“I know.”
“Do you find me attractive?” I dare to ask.
Heat flickers in his eyes. “I find you unbelievably attractive.”
“Then is it my personality? Am I boring?”
He levels a look at me, the intensity of it making my stomach flutter. “You are the farthest thing from boring. You delight me. You challenge me. You undo me.” A pause. “And you exhaust me.”
I’m not sure if theexhaustpart is meant as a compliment. The look on his face says no. Still, I’ll take it as a win.
The silence stretches on, broken only by our breaths.
“Those other women—and there weren’t as many as some people would have you believe—I never had a third date with any of them.” A shadow passes over his face. “But with you, it would be different. It wouldn’t be casual between us. That’s why I can’t pursue this.”
My heart beats faster at his words. There it is. Finally. His admission that there is a connection between us, one that goes deeper than just the physical.
Taking in his brittle expression, I realize I’m not the only one hurting. It’s strange, we haven’t known each other long. We’ve barely spent any meaningful time together. And yet I can’t help feeing as if I’ve lost something that could have become precious and permanent.
His jaw tightens. He exhales like it hurts. “I wish there was another way.”
“There is. It’s called taking a chance on us.”
Pain streaks across his face. “I got careless and selfish, and let this go on for too long, trying to convince myself it was only fake. I’m sorry.” His voice comes out low and tortured. “I’m just not good for you. And I can’t watch you get hurt.”
“Who’s going to hurt me?”
Weariness fills his eyes. “You don’t need to know that.”
