Page 68 of When He Saved Me
Jamie crossed over to me and yanked the hangers out of my hands. “Look, I don’t need your help. I can move my own stuff.”
“Okay. I’ll just grab some of my things then.” I crossed back over to the drawers and began pulling out a stack of T-shirts.
“Stop.”
I turned to look at him. “What?”
“I said, stop.” He let out a frustrated sigh. “Listen, I’m not trying to be an asshole, but I need my own space, okay?”
Time slowed to a standstill. Moments were measured in the space between heartbeats as I tried to make sense of his words. With one sentence, he’d eviscerated me, and I’d never be the same. For the rest of my life, there would be a before and an after, and this was the moment delineating the two.
My devastation must have registered on my face as I stood there in stunned silence.
“Don’t make that face. I never even asked you to move in here.” He dragged his hair tie out of his hair before scooping it up and piling it back into a knot on his head, his movements efficient and businesslike as if he wasn’t ripping my heart out piece by piece. “Look, I appreciate everything you did for my…for my mom, but she’s gone, and I’m a big boy.” He took a breath and let it out as if coming to some decision. “I think it’s time for you to go home.”
Go home.
For the second time in mere moments, the bottom dropped out. Everything inside of me sunk right into the floor. For monthsthishad been my home.Hehad been my home.
“Are you…are you breaking up with me?” I finally managed to get out past the lump in my throat and the tightness in my chest. I was terrified of his answer.
He clenched his jaw before responding. “I don’t know. I just…I can’t think when you’re here, Finn. And you’realwayshere. I need some space. It’s all just been too much.”
Fuck.
I knew he was hurting. I wanted to believe this was coming from a place of pain. From some need he had to shut everything and everyone out. Some delusional method of self-preservation. I could certainly relate because I’d spent most of my life running on auto-pilot, trying to feel as little as possible. But that wasn’t Jamie. Had never been Jamie.
Jamie was Big Feelings. CapitalB. CapitalF. He was sunshine and warmth and happiness. Compassion and kindness and humor.
He waslove.
I wanted to believe that it was the grief talking. And maybe it was, but the words being said were Jamie’s. They came out ofhismouth, were said inhisvoice.
They fuckinghurt.
How had everything come down to this? He’d been the one to chase me. Relentlessly. Breaking down all my walls until I believed that maybe, just maybe, I had enough value that someone might actually want me.
And hehadwanted me. Hehad. Jamie was the one who wore his heart on his sleeve, the one who didn’t hold back. The one who felt everything so damn big, he couldn’t hold it in. He didn’t even want to. Just bared his soul for everyone to see.
And he’d done all of that for me. This beautiful human had shown me that love, brilliant, blindingly beautiful love, was worth fighting for. It was worth holding on to.Iwas worth holding on to.
Only he wasn’t holding on to me. He was letting me go.
No. Not letting go. Fucking shoving me out the door.
Shit. My head was a mess. I had whiplash as I tried to process what he’d said to me. What he’d done.
And Jamie? While I was doing mental gymnastics trying to make sense of the bomb he’d just dropped on me, he stood silent with his brow raised, hands on his hips, impatience radiating off him in waves.
“Okay,” was all I managed. It was all I could choke out past the lump in my throat and the roiling in my stomach. He wanted me gone, so I’d go.
Calmly, I put the T-shirts back in the drawer and closed it quietly, as if my entire world hadn’t just been turned on its axis. As if my heart hadn’t been torn out through my throat, leaving my chest empty where it had once beat for him.
“I love you, Jamie,” I said, tears running down my face. When he didn’t respond, just continued to sort through the pile of clothes on his bed without looking at me, I walked out.
* * *
After leaving Jamie’s,I called out of my afternoon shift at The Daily Grind and, thankfully, already had the night off at Ivory. I wasn’t in any condition to work. I numbly made my way over to Carmen’s apartment—I guess it was still technically mine—not remembering how I got there.
