Page 40 of Unwanted

My eyes dart down to the hand he just pushed away, my heart—the heart that has no right to be affronted—cracks at his rejection.

I thought I knew his pain. Butthis...thiswas palpable.

The crack in his voice gave away his desperation. Gave away his vulnerability.

It was plain as day that he was hanging on by a single thread, but I still wanted to push. I wanted to push past his hurt, reach out and snatch the heartbroken look right off his painfully beautiful face.

I wanted to push till I could rid him of the heartbreak I wasn’t there to heal.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper again.

He shakes his head vehemently. Angry, almost. “Please stop.”

“But I need to,” I persist. “I need you to know–”

“I don’t want to know,” he grits out, the words seething through clenched teeth. “I don’t want to know.” He fills his lungs with air, obviously trying to calm himself. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. We’re in a good place right now.”

I scoff. “We’re not in any place right now.”

He gestures to Lennox’s hospital room. “That’s not true. We’re here for Lennox and we had a great time tonight with everyone.”

“Yeah, witheveryone,”I say. “But when it’s just you and me, I’m right there, Arlo. I’m right there, where I left–”

“Stop,” he hisses. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

I shake my head. “I can’t look at you,” I continue. “I can’t spend time with you.”

“Stop,” he repeats.

I ignore him and keep talking. “I can’t spend time with you without talking about it. Ineedto talk about it.”

In one swift step, Arlo has torn through my personal space and is standing impossibly close to me. Frustrated, his hands reach for my shirt, bunching the material inside his fists as he pushes me up against the nearest wall. “Fucking hell, Frankie.”

His eyes dart from my face down to his hold on me and back up again, as if he’s just realizing the extent of his frustration.

I should be affronted by his aggression, mortified even, but my body thrums in recognition of the man I fell in love with all those years ago.

We weren’t just rough around the edges back then. We knew how to be rough, and being lovers didn’t change that.

I wait him out. Patiently. Wanting to hear whatever it is he has to say, whatever measly sliver of insight he’s willing to give me about his feelings.

He loosens his grip instead. Slightly. And stares at me in silence. His chest rises and falls, his breathing loud and shallow.

“The time to talk about this has well and truly come and gone. Four years too late, to be exact.” He straightens his hands on my chest and steps back, his demeanor changing entirely. “So, I’ll try one more time and ask you if we can just let sleeping dogs lie. Please?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to argue with him, but I settle for disappointment instead.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be between us?” I ask. Taking us right back to the original reason we got into this conversation.

“Yes, that’s all I can give you right now.” He sighs. “We’re just two men brought together by circumstance.”

“Brought together by circumstance,” I repeat softly. Incredulously.

I avert my eyes, not wanting him to see how much his avoidance hurts. I almost want to slice myself open and let our history bleed out all over the linoleum floor, reminding him we are so much more than two people brought together by circumstance.

“If that’s what you want to reduce us to.” My throat constricts around all the emotions, and I let out a soft cough. “Yeah. Sure.”

Long fingers reach for my chin, turning my face till my eyes meet his.

---