Page 55 of Fragments of You

“He won’t leave.” I shake my head, not sure who I’m trying to convince.

“He says he will.”

“It shouldn’t matter if he’s here or isn’t here,” I tell him. “My choice won’t change.”

I’m resigned to the fact that if I keep repeating it, maybe it’ll be true. But I’m already wavering. I’ve been wavering since the day he returned. I just hid it behind anger because if I let myself feel anything else...

I shake away the thought.

“But if we can rid ourselves of this problem once and for all, why wouldn’t we?” Felix arches a brow, his confusion evident.

“This is his home, too. I have no right to ask him to leave,” I say in the way of an excuse.

I’m not saying I want to be with Nash, but the thought of him leaving fills me with so much panic, it’s damn near crippling.

“You have every right. After what he did... after what he’s still doing.”

“He’s hurt. He never expected to come home and find us together.”

“Are you actually defending him?” he sneers, his demeanor changing the instant I say something he doesn’t like.

“No, but I’m trying to look at the whole picture. Ultimately, the blame lies with him. He left us. He hurt us. But I don’t want to be vengeful. Was I angry when he first came back? Of course I was. But I realized something when I went to see him. Holding onto this anger isn’t good for me. It isn’t good for us or the life we’re trying to build.”

“I don’t see a way forward with him here. I’ll always be holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“What other shoe?” I reach forward, taking his hand in mine. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“I don’t want to constantly be looking over my shoulder.”

“Who says you have to?”

“You don’t get it,” he grumbles, pulling his hand away.

“Did you seriously just say that to me? I don’t get it? Are you kidding? He imploded my life, Felix! Do you think seeing him is easy for me?” I try to reel in my traitorous emotions.

“Then tell him to leave.”

“No. Whether he stays or he goes, it shouldn’t have anything to do with me. He is not a part of my life anymore.”

“It has everything to do with you!” he roars, standing so violently that he sends the chair into the front of the house. It hits the siding with a crack. “It has everything to do with you,” he repeats more calmly. “You have the power to end this, and you won’t. What am I supposed to make of that?”

“You want him to leave so badly. Do you trust me so little?” I slowly stand, a slight shake to my voice.

“It’s not that,” he starts.

“Then what is it? You would think you would want him to stay so that you can rub every monumental moment we share in his face. You could look at him knowing you won!” I hold out my arms. “You have me. He doesn’t. So why are you so desperate for him to leave?”

“He’s not going to stop.”

“But according to you, that’s the very reason he came here today, to tell you he was backing off. So, did he not say that, or is there something else? Something you’re not telling me.”

“What are you trying to imply?” He tries to cover his worry with anger, but I still catch a small glimpse of panic that flashes through his eyes. I’m just not sure where it stems from, a nerve I hit or the shift in the tide that suddenly feels impossible to ignore.

“I’m not implying anything, simply asking a question.” I cross my arms in front of my chest.

“What did he tell you?”

My suspicion flares.

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