Page 101 of Up All Night

He finished sending out a text and pushed the side button on his phone. “Are you all done?” he asked, noticing I wasn’t eating any more.

“Yeah, I’m not feeling very well,” I said, not looking him in the eye.

“Oh, uh, okay,” he said, at a loss for words as he set his napkin on the table. “Let me get this food boxed up, and then I can take you home.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice coming out quiet.

The drive back to the apartment was filled with a deafening silence. Music played from a random radio station, but I barely heard it.

I’d worried West and I didn’t fit, and the past couple hours seemed to prove that in bright, bold colors.

It was obvious he wasn’t ready to make time to have a relationship, which I hadn’t been completely naive about, but I’d thought that maybe he would be willing to not work as much on Saturdays since the previous two we’d spent together, he’d been totally present the entire day.

It’s not like I didn’t understand that he needed to work sometimes, but his phone had been going crazy today, and I could tell he had been trying not to work, so I couldn’t imagine how much he normally worked on Saturdays.

Then Rachel had showed up in all her magnificent glory, reminding me that the only reason he still wasn’t with this amazing woman was because of his job. And I for sure could not be naive enough to think that I would miraculously be the girl who would make him want to commit and work less hours.

And then we couldn’t forget how he’d wanted to throw his money at me. I’m sure it was meant to be a nice gesture, but the offer had only left me feeling icky. I didn’t want there to be anything transactional about my relationship with West.

Needless to say, my stomach hurt, my head hurt, and as sad and pathetic as it was, my heart hurt. Today had been a huge dose of reality—one that I had desperately needed.

West and I were great together when life didn’t get in the way. But couldn’t any two people who semi enjoyed each other’s company be happy together if their lives were free of stress and drama?

It was like West and I had been on vacation, in our own little world, but now the vacation was over, and life had slapped us both in the face.

We trudged up the steps to my apartment, still in silence. It was like a bucket of ice water had drenched our hopes of anything more happening between us. He seemed to be in the same place I was, making hard realizations.

With one hand on the door handle, I said, “Thanks for the lunch.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, his features closed off. “I hope you feel better.”

“Me, too.” My voice was barely audible, knowing this kind of sickness had a way of lingering for way too long.

He stared at my face like he was trying to memorize it, like he knew our time together today had been an answer that neither of us had wanted to hear. We knew this was it, and even though we both didn’t like it, we understood why.

“I’ll see you around, Halle.” He looked like a sad puppy, and it took everything in me not to reach out to him.

This was for the best. Better for us to find out now that things wouldn’t work out than after we’d gotten into a relationship.

“Yeah, I’ll see ya around.”

I pushed open the door and closed it behind me. Resting my back against the door, I took in a deep inhale, letting out the air in a wobbly breath as a single tear slipped down my cheek.

28

West

“You look like crap.” Cannon’s voice came from my office doorway.

I didn’t move my gaze from my computer screen, not wanting to acknowledge his comment. “Hello to you, too.” I continued to type the email I was working on.

“You’ve been moping for five days,” he said, not caring that I was trying to ignore him. “If you’re so messed up over not being with Halle, why don’t you go be with her?”

I was well aware that I’d been moping. I didn’t need him to point that out to me.

After I’d dropped off Halle on Saturday, I’d locked myself in my room for the rest of the weekend, wallowing like the true man I was. I’d skipped the gym Monday morning, heading into work extra early to get my mind off the beautiful blue-eyed girl who lived directly above me. I’d stayed even later at work that day, too, not wanting to be at the apartment when only a flight of stairs separated us.

That same pattern had continued the past few days, throwing myself into work, hardly being at the apartment for fear of seeing her or fear of not being able to stop myself from knocking on her door to tell her I was miserable without her. But what good would that do?

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