Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Can’t you do that later today?”
He knows he can, but he wants to leave as much as I want him to stay. He wants time to think, but I’m worried that’ll make things worse. I need to remind him of what we have, and that it’s too special for him to give up on.
“I’d rather just get it out of the way,” he says. “These guys are gonna be pissed. At least I only had two to knock out.”
He scratches at the back of his neck and then starts around the bar, heading to the bedroom.
I can’t fucking eat right now. He gets dressed, and as he starts into the living room, still not making eye contact with me, I slide off the bar stool and approach him.
“Tim,” I say, trying to force him to look at me. “Tim!”
My tone is severe because it seems like it has to be for me to grab his attention.
He finally looks at me, and I can see a tear forming in his eyes, sparkling in the morning light that pierces through the blinds.
“This is the life I chose,” he says. “But you didn’t choose this.”
“Yes, I did. I chose this when I chose you.”
He looks my face, and he turns and wipes his eye quickly.
“Tim, please,” I say, grabbing his arms. I just want him to stay right here and talk to me.
“You shouldn’t have to make this choice, though.”
And I hear the despair in his words.
“You’re scaring me, Tim. Don’t fucking make this into something. You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“And I’ve already done that.”
“You know that’s not what I was talking about.”
“I think we need to spend a few days apart,” he says.
“What?”
Days? I don’t even like spending hours apart from him.
“How the fuck is that going to help anything?”
“I think you need to think about everything more. We’ve just been jumping into this. But after what happened, you need to sit down and figure out if this is what you want.”
“I know what I want. I’m not a fucking kid. I don’t need a fucking timeout so that I can figure out what’s right for me.”
“Please. Just do it. For me. I’m not going anywhere, Mark. But I need you to seriously consider what you’re signing up for.”
Why is he doing this to me?
“I get it. It was a lot what we went through last night.”
Tears are starting in my eyes now. Fuck.
“But I don’t need you to leave so that I can sort through things,” I explain.
“Maybe I need to figure some of this out, too.”
“What does that even mean? So you were making this all out to be about me, but really you need to figure this out?”
“Mark, I want to make sure I’m doing what’s best for you.”
“You’re what’s best for me.” I move in for a kiss, but he turns his head.
God, I’m so fucking pissed at him right now.
“You’re being an asshole,” I say.
“We’re not breaking up. I’m not asking for the world. But we rushed into this, and after that, we need to fucking make sure that this is what’s right.”
“I know what’s right.”
“Please, Mark. Just a few days.”
Why does it feel like goodbye, though? Like he’s going to walk out of here and steadily talk himself out of us? I’m scared of letting him leave. I’m scared that he’s going to make excuses to push me away.
“Okay,” I say softly, even though I don’t like it.
“Thank you.”
Even with him still right here, my body aches, hungers for him, as if it knows it’s going to be hard to be without him even for a brief amount of time.
“Okay,” he says. “I’m gonna head out. If you need anything, you text…you call. I’ll drop everything and be right back here, you got it?”
His words offer me some ease.
Maybe I’m making too big of a deal out of the time apart. Maybe he’ll realize how silly it is to spend time away from each other once he gets away for a while.
“Okay,” I say, and though I’m trying to be strong right now, I can hear the sadness in my own voice as I say it.
He heads for the door.
“Not even a kiss?” I ask.
He turns around and offers a light peck on my lips. It stings a little bit because it’s in part of the place where I got hit last night.
The sting isn’t as bad, though, as when he heads out, having left me with nothing more than such a little kiss.
I’m afraid that last night was too much for him.
Doesn’t he feel the way I do when I’m with him? How could he even consider giving this up over something as stupid as what happened last night?
He needs the day to think about it, I keep telling myself. He needs to calm down and get through the adrenaline that’s been rushing through him ever since it happened. Then he’ll start thinking rationally again.