Page 68 of An Overdue Match
He considers what I say for about a tenth of a second. “No. You don’t want to fight for us, that’s fine. I’ll fight hard enough for the both of us.”
“There is no us, Tai.” It hurts so much to say that. To let go of that tiny sliver of a hope that maybe I’d been wrong before. That maybe I could have a love of my own and that this man in front of me would be that love. But if Hayley can’t even bear to look at me without my wig the same way that she did with it, then there’s little chance of things going differently with Tai.
“That’s where you’re wrong. There was an us the moment you spied on me between the bookshelves, and there will be an us until we’re both old and gray.” He reaches over and grabs my cold hand. “I’m not giving up. Not until you finally let me love you the way you deserve.”
The muscles in my throat push past the lump as I swallow. My eyes lower, catching on my pale hand in Tai’s tanned one. Some of the tightness around my eyes loosens. I want his words to be true so badly, but they’re destined to be a fantasy never realized.
We get out of the car, and Tai retrieves the blanket and picnic basket from his trunk. There’s a grassy spot away from the road but not too close to the edge of the mountain where he unfolds the blanket and lays it on the ground.
I lower myself onto a corner of the quilt and tuck my legs under me. Speaking is dangerous, but I need to say something to put us on an easier path and defuse this tinderbox between us.
“It’s so beautiful,” I finally manage as I look out over the vista. The Ocoee River winds below, the crystalline blue water glistening among the lush green of the Cherokee Forest. A hilled peak rises above the rest, standing sentinel, its imposing presence forcing the river to bow to it. “You can see for miles. It’s breathtaking, really.”
The weight of his gaze settles on my profile, daring me to turn and catch him staring. I don’t, but my cheeks bypass the memo to ignore his attempts of telling intent and infuse with heat instead.
I duck my head to try and hide my blush. “So, what’s on the menu?”
Tai pulls out two paper-wrapped sub sandwiches and a bag of Doritos. He points a slow-forming lopsided grin my way. “Be impressed by my culinary prowess.”
Tension releases in my chest at his endeavor to return to his usual teasing manner. “Well, I’ve heard sandwich-making is an art form.”
“And I won’t be the one to depose you of that belief since it serves me well today.”
My lips curve into a real, albeit small, smile, and I unwrap my sandwich.
“How’s the party planning going for your grandparents’ anniversary?” Tai pops a chip into his mouth.
“You remember that?”
“Of course. I’ve been meaning to ask if you need any help.”
“Really?” I should turn his offer down. Spending more time with him would only be torturing myself.
Then I remember the length of my to-do list. Help wouldn’t be the worst thing. And I doubt Tai will respect my need for distance. Maybe if I at least have him busy doing something useful, his attention will be diverted and I can have a sliver of breathing room when he’s around.
“I’ve got excellent penmanship if you need invitations addressed,” he offers.
I chew on my lip, considering. “Okay, that would be helpful. Thank you.”
Without warning, a strong wind blows from the valley below, gusting over the top of the mountain and sending our napkins cartwheeling out of reach. Tai makes a dive for the paper products, and I move to help him. The wind blows even harder, a sharp updraft that whips around our bodies, flinging my wig from my head before I can even suspect a thing.
A scream of horror mixed with deep emotional pain rips from my throat as I throw my arms up and attempt to cover my head and hide my shame. I can’t believe this is happening. Even without wig tape or glue, my cap has always fit as snug as a beanie. How could it have just blown off like that?
I curl into a ball, trying to make myself small, invisible. I wish I could disappear altogether. Anything to not let Tai see me right now. Double chins gather at my neck as I press my face as tightly to my chest as I can. Tears stream down my cheeks, and my eyes are wet and already getting puffy. My nose is running, and my breath is hot and stuffy in the little cave I’ve made. My shoulders shake as I cry, and I dig my hands into the base of my skull to help my arms hide my baldness.
“What is it? What happened?” Tai’s voice is thick with alertness, breaking through the sound barrier of my shoulders pinned over my ears.
“Don’t look at me!” My voice cracks as I repeat myself on a broken sob.
Grass rustles under boots behind me and I flinch, folding myself even tighter.
“Angel,” Tai murmurs. He settles himself behind me, his thighs on either side of my hips, and draws me back to his chest, gathering me in his arms even as I resist. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart. So beautiful.”
He repeats this mantra over and over as he gently rocks me back and forth as I cry, hiccupping and pleading with him not to look at me, my arms a citadel over my head.
I feel a little like Katniss Everdeen must have after she learned she had to go back to the arena for the Quarter Quell. She somehow managed to make it out of the first Hunger Games alive; she knew she’d never survive a second time.
How can I survive another rejection? How can I go through that again?
