Her eyes widened in surprise as he unwound her arms from his neck. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, I can’t wait around here for you to need me.’
‘I never meant for you to wait around, Ben. I thought we had an … arrangement. Like I said, friends with benefits and all that.’
‘Friends implies that we’re there for each other, not that you disappear for nine months of the year and then circle back when you’re lonely or dumped or it’s fucking New Year’s.’
‘Bennett…’
‘No, no, I’m sorry, Nic. I can’t do it anymore.’ He stepped back, needing physical space between them, afraid he would accidentally fall back into bad habits. Becausethiswas the bad habit. Not helping people, not caring for them, nor wanting to be there for Kira. The bad habit was staying in a relationship that made him miserable. The bad habit was not telling this woman exactly how he felt.
She was right. They had been so young when this all started.
But they weren’t anymore.
He didn’t regret the start of this thing. He’d been naive and in love and he’d followed a girl across the country and for a few months it had been amazing and exciting. And he was happy to have had that experience.
But he regretted that he hadn’t let the end be the end.
He’d held onto this rotten thing for too long.
‘You should go,’ he said.
She was studying him with a little furrow between her brows. ‘You met someone?’
Yes. And she was perfect even though she didn’t believe it. And she was smart and funny and so fucking beautiful it hurt. And she loved dogs and reindeer and probably every other animal under the sun. And she was stubborn. And brave.
Braver than him because she was trying to change.
But Nicole didn’t need to know any of that.
‘It doesn’t matter. I just…’ he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I just don’t want to be your standby anymore. I’m sorry.’
‘What if I want more?’
‘You don’t.’
Her hands were on her hips again. ‘Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t want to lose you. I can try harder to be … what you want.’
She looked at him with big eyes and he knew she was scared. He believed her, that she would try for him, that she didn’t want to lose him, but in this, he needed to be selfish.
‘We had our chance, so many chances. I think it’s best for both of us to finally move on.’
Tears filled her eyes and he opened his arms to her. She fell into them, pressing her face against his chest.
‘I am sorry,’ she sniffled. ‘I thought you were okay with this. I thought you liked seeing me.’
‘Of course I did. I still do.’ He rubbed a hand down her sequined back. ‘But I just … I need to move on.’
They stayed like that for a long time, and he felt like he was holding his past in his arms. They’d spent so much of their lives connected to each other. Memories flooded him: spending nights in her way-too-small dorm-room bed, driving cross country in her crappy old hatchback, hoping they would make it, sleeping on an air mattress in their first studio apartment. After she left the first time, it had only been a few months before she returned, crying, needing a friend, comfort, and eventually they fell back into bed together.
And round and round they went.
Until now.
He kissed the top of her head and she pulled away. Miraculously, her makeup had stayed put.
‘I was going to invite you to Sunny’s party tonight, but I’m guessing that’s a no?’