Page 78 of Now That We Don't Talk

I nod quickly. “I don’t remember everything I said to the guys that night, but I know it hurt you. And that’s all that matters. I’m truly sorry.”

Her expression softens, and her eyes have turned glossy. Ugh. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it if she cries.

“Thank you for saying that. It means a lot.”

The server appears at our table, but I wave him off, asking for a few more minutes.

Vivian fidgets with her napkin before lifting her gaze to meet mine. “Um, is it okay if we do this another night? I think I need some time to process.”

My stomach twists, but I manage a nod. “Of course. Don’t worry.”

She stands, and for a brief second I think she’s going to say something else—maybe she’s having second thoughts. But instead she just offers a small, sad smile.

“I’m really glad we’re friends, Mac.”

Friends.

The word feels like a punch to the gut. It’s not what I want. But it’s better than nothing, right?

I force myself to nod. “Me too.”

She hesitates for a second before turning to leave, and I watch her walk away. It’s taking all my strength not to chase after her and pull her into my arms, never letting go.

But I don’t.

Maybe things are happening the way they’re supposed to, and this is the only way to keep us both from getting hurt. As difficult as this is, I wouldn’t change it for anything. Otherwise I might never know how amazing she is and what I was missing without her in my life.

When I finally pull into the driveway, I sit in the car for a few minutes. I’d driven around aimlessly for a while, trying to clear my head, but all I did was replay the conversation Vivian and I had.

I sigh and then finally turn off the engine. Instead of going to the apartment, I head into the main house.

“Hey, guys,” I say, popping my head into the familyroom. My dad is in his chair watching a baseball game, and Mom is curled up on the couch with a book.

My mom looks up immediately, giving me a curious look. I can already feel her assessing me with her superhuman mom-vision.

I shift on my feet. “Um, I just saw Vivian, and we decided to just stay friends—you know, since I’m leaving. It would just be too hard.”

This gets my mother’s full attention. She exchanges a quick glance with my dad. They’ve gotten good at those silent parental conversations over the years.

Dad is the first to break the silence. “I’m sorry to hear that, kid.” His voice is steady and neutral.

Mom closes her book, her expression soft but knowing. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I hesitate then sigh and drop onto the couch next to her. “I don’t know.”

And that’s the truth. I don’t know how to explain what’s going on inside my head. I don’t know why I feel like I’m being pulled in two completely different directions—one that says this is the right choice and another that’s screaming at me to fight for her.

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees, rubbing a hand over my forehead. “She took the lead, and I felt like I should respect her decision. I don’t want to make things hard on her, and my career is a lot to deal with.”

Mom nods thoughtfully. “I’m sure she appreciated that.” She pauses and tilts her head. “But how do you feel about it?”

I clench my jaw.

“Disappointed,” I finally admit, my voice lower than before.

This feels like an understatement, but it’s the first wordthat popped into my head. I’m disappointed I didn’t have the right words to change her mind. And even more disappointed I let her walk out of the restaurant.

Mom places her hand on my arm, her touch is very comforting. “That’s understandable. You know the right thing and the easy thing are almost never the same.”

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