Page 56 of An Engagement Pact

“It doesn’t matter. It’s just kind of embarrassing. To me.”

Dan still looks half-frozen, but there’s a bleak, confused frown beginning to darken his face. “Embarrassing?”

“Of course. Being last choice is always embarrassing, but it’s not a big deal.”

“You were never—”

“I clearly was last choice. But I understood what this thing was from the beginning, so I have no reason to take it personally. I just thought you only asked me and not everyone else before me. I just didn’t realize...” I choke on however I was planning to finish that sentence.

“Vicky, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be a secret. I was just... I wanted to get access to my trust fund, and getting married was—”

“The only way to do it.” My voice is unnaturally cold. Shrill. “I understand.”

“I don’t think you understand at all. You wouldn’t be so upset if you understood. At least let me explain what really happened.”

Despite everything—despite all the ways my heart has been trampled in the past hour—there’s a little sliver of hope remaining. Maybe he did start out thinking of me as his last choice, but his feelings could have changed the way mine have.

He’s been acting like I’m more to him than that.

Maybe I am.

“Okay,” I reply in a gurgle, unable to meet his eyes. “You can explain.”

“I... I...” He makes a weird choking sound. His face twists, and he turns his head away.

He can’t explain.

He has nothing to say to make this better.

I suddenly remember what he’s told me about his previous relationships. He’d throw himself into them, hoping that they’d work, that they’d be real, but then he’d get into an argument or a roadblock, and that was when he’d realize it wasn’t worth the effort of overcoming it.

That’s where we are right now. We’re at the roadblock.

The first real one.

And instead of trying to get past it, instead of opening himself up and being vulnerable so he can explain things to me, he’s sitting there stiff and tense and silent.

Silent.

And I know. I know everything. I know exactly what this means.

Whatever he thought he was feeling with me simply isn’t strong enough.

“Okay,” I mumble, clicking on my seat belt. “I get it. Can you please drive me over to Jim and Esther’s?”

“Wh-what?” The one word is broken and hoarse.

“Please drive me over there. I’ll stop by your place and get my stuff tomorrow.” I have to hug my arms to my middle to keep from trembling violently. “But right now I want to go home.”

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