Page 119 of Becoming Us
“Yeah. It made me realize I forgot to bring something up with you.” Fine—that was a fib. I hadn’t forgotten. I’d been avoiding it.
“What about?”
I paused, took a steadying breath. “Seattle.”
He was tucking in the last corner when he stopped, straightening slightly. His hand landed on his hip, and the hint of a smile disappeared.
“My mom’s planning this thing in a couple of weeks. It’s kind of dumb for a bunch of reasons, but it’s for my dad, and she asked me to come.”
His face didn’t change. Too neutral. This wasn’t feeling right. Why didn’t it feel right?
“She asked me to bring you along,” I added, even though it now felt like two trains speeding toward each other.
Atty crossed his arms.
“So, I guess the question is…do you want to come? With me? To Seattle?”
We stood there, across the bed from each other, not moving.
He looked away first, and my chest collapsed in on itself.Of course.What the fuck was I thinking?
“Or not. You can just forget I said anything.” I forced a laugh, grabbed the duvet, and tossed it over the bed.
“Noah…”
“No, it’s fine. Really. Just forget about it,” I said again, a little too fast.
“Would you look at me for a second?”
I met his gaze. His expression didn’t budge. “I appreciate the invitation, but maybe it’s not the best idea,” he said, slowly—like he was choosing every word with care, like he was bracing for a meltdown.
My eyes dropped to my feet.
Okay. So you’re disappointed. Now what? Breathing exercises? The studio? Write a goddamn letter?
“Okay.” I kept my voice flat. I looked back at him, offering what I hoped passed as a smile.
He didn’t buy it. His face shifted, softening into something I hated even more than indifference—pity.
I shook my head quickly. “Give me a minute?”
I needed to get my shit together—but not here. Not with him looking at me like that. Not while it felt like we were slipping backward again.
“Noah.”
“Just a minute,” I repeated, skirting the bed and heading for the bathroom.
He caught my wrist before I passed. “Don’t go.”
“Atty, I’m fine. I just need a minute. You need them, too, sometimes. And I’ve given you that space,” I said, pulling my hand free.
He let go but stepped closer. “When I ask for it, it’s because I need to cool off and think. When you do it, you dig yourself into a hole.”
That hit harder than I expected.
“That’s what I used to do. Before. Not now.” I tried my best to keep my voice steady.
“No, you still do it,” he said. “The difference is, now you climb out. That’s what’s changed. But you still manage to hurt yourselffirst. So don’t walk away just to beat yourself up when we could talk about it. I know you’re mad?—”
