Page 181 of Positively Pricked
"Then I'll deal with it."
After a long moment, he said, "Jane, listen. If it's the house that's bothering you—"
I held up a hand. "You know what? You don't need to explain. After all, like you said, it's none of my business."
"You're right. It's not."
I summoned up a stiff smile. "See? Problem solved."
Ignoring my comment, Zane continued. "But I'd rather tell you than have you look at me like you're looking at me now."
"It's not just the house," I said. "It's everything. And really, it doesn't even matter."
"Oh yeah? Why not?"
How to explain? I gave a hopeless shrug. "I guess, because we're so different."
"Yeah. We are. But that doesn't have to be a problem."
Maybe not for him. But it would be for me. After all, how many times could I watch him being awful to somebody before I ended up despising him?
Maybe it was unfair. Maybe I was being stupid. But at that particular moment, all I wanted was some time to think.
When I made no reply, Zane said, "Everything I do, I've got my reasons."
I gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, I'm sure you do."
Zane stiffened, and I felt a tiny twinge of guilt. It only reinforced what I knew all along. We were totally different people. He could chew someone up and spit them out without breaking a sweat. But me? I felt awful every time I hurt someone.
Even now, part of me worried that I might be hurtinghim, as crazy as that sounded. I heard myself murmur, "This would never work."
Zane's posture grew rigid. "What?"
"I'm just saying…" I blinked long and hard. "I really need to go."
Zane looked at me for a long moment before saying, "All right. You wanna go home? I'm not gonna fight you."
Good.It was, after all, for the best – or at least, that's what I kept telling myself, even as the heaviness grew in my heart.
Still, I gave a quick, silent nod.
"Fine," he said. "We'll leave at five tomorrow. And that's morning. Not night. The car will be waiting out front." As he turned to go, he added, "Be there. Or I'll come and get you myself."
I gave a quick shake of my head. "But wait, you saidwe– as in both of us – leave tomorrow?"
He turned back to say. "Right. That's what I was coming to tell you."
"Sorry, I don't get it. You were coming to tell mewhatexactly?"
"That we're done here. No need to stick around, right?"
Ouch.
What could I say? In barely a whisper, I said, "Right."
With a tight nod, he turned and strode away, leaving me standing in the open doorway. As I watched him go, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was incredibly lucky that Bob showed up when he did – or if it was the worst thing that could've happened at the worst possible time.
But obsessing wouldn’t change anything. And besides, I hadn't expected this to be a long-term thing, anyway – or at least, that's what I kept repeating to myself over and over, even as I packed my bags for the trip home.
