Page 19 of Breaking Away

When she unzips the main compartment, I crane my neck. Before I can see, she closes the bag. Her shoulders sag, and a sigh falls from her lips.

A few moments later, she catches me staring. Her cheeks blush. “My camera,” she explains.

“It’s only a hobby,” she quickly adds.

I nod, filing the information away for later. That she likes to shoot photography doesn’t surprise me. With the amount of time she spent drawing in art class, and how that one teacher in high school kept pushing her to intern at the local gallery, it makes complete sense.

What doesn’t make sense is how she’s currently wringing her hands.

“Is that why you’re crying? Because you were afraid your camera was gone?”

“Sure.” She wipes her eyes. “I’ve spent the whole day having nightmares about how your massive hands crushed it.”

I frown, slipping my hands into my pockets so they aren’t so visible. I wonder if that’s what she sees them as. Only capable of damage. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I ruined your night back in Seattle when I barged into your hotel and embarrassed myself.” Her eyes wander. “Not that I’m not grateful… And, okay, I didn’t actually think you destroyed my bag. That’s me being dramatic and mean. Sorry.”

“You didn’t embarrass yourself in Seattle.”

For whatever reason, that makes her laugh. It’s a hollow sound. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve had enough of that, thank you.”

A digging starts in my chest, hearing her talk like this. “This about Smith? What else has he done?”

“No, I’m rage-crying atmyself.”

“Because of that prick?”

When she doesn’t answer, I do something inappropriate because she’s ready to get up.

My legs extend under the table until my boots hook on her chair legs.

When she tries to push back, the chair doesn’t shift. She tries again and then stops as if too tired to figure out what’s happening.

I’m a jackass, that’s what’s happening. This is why I should have mailed her the backpack. Sitting across from Kavi has me operating on instincts I don’t understand and can’t control.

“You know, Tyler’s worried I’m going to leave him,” she finally admits after chewing the edge of her fingernail for a while. “But he’s not afraid. Like he’s mostly sure I’m going to forgive him and that we’ll end up together. My mom thinks the same. You know what she told me today?” Brown eyes flash molten for a second. “Men make stupid mistakes.”

Go fucking back to him?“Why do you care what Smith, the weasel, thinks? It’s your call.”

Kavi stops fidgeting long enough to deliver an eye-roll. “Not that you’re biased at all, right?”

I don’t care if sarcasm is her retreating into a shell, as long as she’s not crying.

“So, are you broken up?” I ask. “Because only a spineless man cheats on his partner.”

She hesitates.

“Whatever you say to me, I won’t repeat,” I say, finding myself reassuring her. “To anyone.”

“Because you don’t care? Because this is all amusing to you? Does it mean you win?Why?”

I brace myself and lean forward. “You’re right. I would win. The satisfaction. That you know you’re better off, Basra. That he’s not worth a second of your time.”

“Weird. Maybe I should listen to you.” She draws in a breath. “He, um, basically confessed he wants our relationship to be open on the phone right before you showed up.”

“Open relationships can work—” I start.

Kavi watches me with fresh shock.

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