Page 105 of Since We're Here
“You’re a tourist, here for an adventure. I gave you that adventure.”
“Don’t be like that.” I shake my head so hard it hurts. “I’m not just here for adventure. I was here... I don’t know... to figure things out.”
“And to lie to your family about where you are and who you’re with, right?”
I’m dumbfounded. What’s happening here?
“Why are you picking a fight with me?” My voice is soft and shaky. Since my bike accident, things with Patrick have been amazing. Perfect.
But now he sounds like he did that night of the inventory problem at O’Brien’s.
Patrick runs his hands roughly over his face.
“Madison.”
Go home.
Come on.
Leave.
He doesn’t want me here. Panic builds at my center. I don’t want to hear whatever he’s going to say. I don’t want him to continue.
“Why didn’t you tell me you dated Noreen?” It’s the first thing that pops in my head, but the instant the words are out of my mouth, I regret them.
He furrows his brow, temporarily disarmed. “Where did that come from?”
“I found out and thought it was weird you hadn’t told me.”
He shakes his head, his face draining of all remaining color.
“We should stop this.” Patrick gnaws on his bottom lip, an uncharacteristic nervous movement.
“Stop what?” But I don’t want to know. Because I do know.
He lifts a hand and slowly moves it back and forth between us. “Whatever is happening. You’re going to leave, and youshouldleave, because you don’t belong here. You belong in the US. In New Jersey.”
His words are harsh, yet calm. They don’t match his demeanor, which is closer to how I feel. Shoulders lifted protectively, back rigid, jaw ticking, his cold eyes the only part of him committed to his speech.
“Saoirse gave her official notice at the hotel. She’s going to come work at O’Brien’s full-time. As head manager.”
I have whiplash from the change in topic.
“Oh, okay, great. But let’s get back to...”
“And I hired another bartender this week.”
Realization dawns on me. He’s telling me I’m no longer needed.
“I can still help. I like it. I like... working here. Being here. With you.”
He pauses, assessing me, his body settling. He’s a stranger with a thin line for a mouth and heartless hazel eyes.
“You don’t want me to stay? After this week, and last week?”
“It’s been...” he starts in a low voice, the hand on his knee twitching as if he wants to reach out to me.
“It’s been what?”
