Page 37 of Personal Foul
His brows furrow in confusion, his nostrils flare at my reaction to him.
“Listen, my parents have done a lot for me since they came into my life. I won’t deny it; I’ve been fortunate to have been adopted by them at fifteen years old. It’s not easy when you’re an orphaned teenager when everyone else wants new babies who aren’t lugging around their past baggage. Trust me when I say, I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth with all my wants and needs given to me like I’m some spoiled little brat. I heard what you went through growing up with a single parent, the hardships you faced, but unlike you, I didn’t have anyone else to look after me. I didn’t have a brother or a mom who fought for me. I had myself, that’s it!”
He takes a step toward me, reaching for my hand, realizing the error of his words. He thought he knew me. He assumed based on what was said at dinner, and he was wrong. The look on his face, the genuine remorse is enough for me to know he is sorry, but it has gone too far. The damage is done.
I don’t see a way out of this now.
“I think you should go.”
“Wait. No. I think we should talk about this.”
“What’s there to talk about? You seem to have it all figured out, right? You know everything there is to know about me. I proved to you how wrong you were, and I’m done now. I don’t have anything more to say.”
“Will you stop?”
“Stop what, Colson? Stop. What?” I punctuate each word with a pop before reaching down, unhooking the straps on my heels, toeing them off in the process.
“You always push me away. Anytime I think we’re getting somewhere, you put your walls back up. Can you please talk to me?”
“You’re right, Colson. We lived two vastly different lives, but I’ve never made assumptions for you or about how you felt. Since the moment we first met, you’ve been trying to think for me, make decisions for me. I can make decisions for myself, and I want you to go.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, reaching for my hand. Even feeling his hands on me now, my resistance is beginning to crumble, but I know I need space.
When I’m close to him, when I touch him, I can’t think straight. Taking a step back, I put some distance between us. Rubbing my fingers over my forehead, I massage the skin, trying to ease the pulse thrumming underneath.
So much is swirling through my mind, and I need some time to think. We’re both running high on emotions and need to call a time-out.
“I’m going to give you space. I can tell this is what you need.” My eyes glance up at him. He’s doing it again. Trying to read me and, I don’t know why, but it only annoys me further. He holds his hand up. “I think we both need space right now. I know I made assumptions, and I’m sorry. I’m going to give you some time, but we’re going to talk about this again.”
I don’t want to argue with him right now. I fully expect him not to bother once he walks out the door. What reason does he have to keep trying? Time and space won’t change the fact sooner or later he’s going to walk away, like most of the people in my life have.
I need to protect myself, my job, and everything I’ve worked so hard for. When he does walk away, I won’t allow him to take all those things with him.
He rubs his thumb over the side of my hand, where our fingers still entwine. Glancing down at our joined hands, I let out a heavy breath before I look up at him.
“I’m serious, Sydney. I’m giving you time, but it’s only time. Sooner or later, the time is going to run out, and I’m going to be back here. We’re going to talk about this.”
I nod.
He reaches his hand out, pressing it softly against the side of my face before he leans forward and kisses my cheek. His mouth lingers near my face as I tilt my head to the side, feeling his warm breath against my heated skin.
“I’m not walking away from you. I won’t give up on us either.”
He squeezes my fingers again, pressing another kiss against my cheek before he pulls back. He flashes me a sad smile, clenching his clothes in his hands, and turning to walk out the door.
All I can think at this moment is how badly I wish he were telling the truth.
