“I’m sorry,” I finally choked out. “I never want you to feel that way.”
The moment the tears began to fall, he shot to his feet. Clearly, messy emotions made him as uncomfortable as they made me. But the way he bolted from my side instead of comforting me stung.
In all the time we’d been seeing each other, I could guarantee he never saw a single tear shed by me. One day at the shelter I was really close, but the scene at that place would tug at anyone with a freaking beating heart. He had to know this wasn’t me grandstanding to get out of a tough conversation.
I tried again, “I’m really sorry, Luke.”
With a heavy sigh, he dropped back to the spot he had vacated beside me. He looked frustrated now, and truthfully, I didn’t like that response either. I was offering a sincere apology. Why was he acting like I was annoying him? My temper began to stretch her sleepy legs and did a few pre-game stretches.
After a deep breath, I asked, “Is this because of the Christmas party?” Before he could answer, I repeated the original story I’d spun when I’d canceled on him. “When the team has certain functions, they make it mandatory we attend. There’s literally nothing I can do about it. I wanted to go with you. I was looking forward to it. Honestly.”
“It just seems like everything else comes before me. Sometimes I feel like I don’t really have a girlfriend—just a woman who spares me some time here and there.”
I reared back. “That’s not very fair. Or kind. I’ve been upfront with you from the beginning about the obligations I have.”
I reminded myself to keep my volume down. With the alto voice I had, volume seemed to be the one aspect of it I could control. No matter the emotion I was feeling, my voice grew louder. I often ended up coming off as angry regardless of how I was feeling inside.
Luke nodded. “You have. But I’m getting tired of it. I’m just being honest with you, Clemson.”
“Where is this coming from? For weeks, I thought everything was fine. How long have you been feeling like this?” I shook my head, at a complete loss at how to handle this.
“For a while. I think I want more out of this”—he motioned back and forth between us—“than you do.”
“That’s not true. You don’t get to tell me how I feel.”
“And how do you feel? You never really talk about how you feel about me. I want to tell the world I’ve fallen in love with you, but I’m afraid it will send you running,” he said, raising his voice.
“You don’t have to raise your voice. I’m sitting right here.”
“See what I mean? I say that, and you comment on my volume. Not that you’re in love with me too. Not that you’ll make more of an effort.”
I just stared at him. I wasn’t ready to tell him I loved him. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I did. This was more than I could deal with at the moment, and I was starting to feel like a cornered animal.
I stood up and brushed my hands down my jeans.
“Where are you going?” he said, voice changing again. Panic made his eyes shift back and forth.
“I think I should go. We both need to cool down, and I don’t want either one of us to say something we don’t mean.” I found my bag on one of the kitchen chairs where I set it when we first got to his place that day. “I’ll call a ride from downstairs. Don’t worry about taking me home.”
This was another reason I hated going places with people. When something shitty happened and you had to bolt, you were stuck at someone else’s mercy. Well, I’d be damned if I asked him for one more thing when he was already feeling like he was giving so much more to me than I to him.
“I’ll call you later… Or tomorrow,” I added, forgetting it was already late.
I left before he could say another word.
Not that he tried, though. He stood in the middle of the entryway and watched me leave. Never tried to stop me.
Downstairs, I waited for a car to arrive. The app said someone was just minutes away, but it was too cold to wait outside the building. Luke’s doorman thought he was being inconspicuous with his glances in my direction, but I watched his reflection in the mostly glass lobby. I was too angry to cry now, so I just kept checking my phone to count down the moments until I could get the hell out of there.
From the back seat of the silver sedan that rescued me, I texted Grace and filled her in on what had happened. She was on a date earlier that evening but was already home. Guess things didn’t go as planned for her either.
She met me at the front door with a bowl of ice cream in her hands. Bless her soul, it was exactly how I wanted to drown my sorrow at the moment. Two scoops of vanilla ice cream covered in chocolate syrup was exactly what the love doctor prescribed. We sat on our sofa and quietly ate our feelings.
“What happened to your date?” I finally asked. “You got home pretty early.”
She shrugged. “He was nice enough. There just wasn’t anything there. After the movie, we both agreed to call it a night. I’m glad now, though, so I was here when you got home.”
I ate the last spoonful of melted ice cream and clutched the bowl in both hands.