Page 28 of Tangled Up In You
We didn’t say anything for a while as we started eating. No silence had ever been weird between us, but that one was. Perhaps because we knew we’d eventually have to face the tension keeping us at odds.
Glancing at him, I noticed his scrunched brow and knew he was mulling something around in his head.
“How was work today?” he asked.
I was surprised he hadn’t cut right to the chase, but I was thankful he didn’t. Usually, I wasn’t a fan of small talk; however, I felt it was needed with us. Having been apart for so long, we’d lost our connection, and we needed to work up to more significant topics.
“Good,” I answered after swallowing a bite of spaghetti. I’d added just a tad too much salt to it, so I took a drink of tea to wash it down. “I’m having the kids write a research paper, so we’re using the computer lab for the next two weeks.”
“It’s still hard to imagine you as a teacher,” Corbin said with a grin. “Are you a hard ass?”
“Maybe just a little,” I said. His grin widened, and it was contagious. “Some students are more appreciative than others. But it’s for their own good.” He nodded and a silence followed. I bounced my knee under the table. It felt like I was grasping at straws as I tried to find something else to talk about. “What did you do today?”
“Pretty much everythingexceptwhat I was supposed to,” he answered. “I need to go through Grandpa’s things, but I’m not prepared for it yet.”
“When you decide to do it, let me know and I’ll come over to help,” I offered, unable to stop myself before I reached across the table and covered his hand with mine. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
He upturned his palm and slid his fingers through mine. “Thanks, Hunter.”
My heart raced at the contact, and I pulled my hand away. “No problem.”
Corbin watched my retreating hand with a pulled together brow before picking up his fork and taking another bite.
Through the rest of dinner, we continued with the small talk, and I found it was getting easier to carry on conversation. I didn’t have to think as much or worry about asking the wrong thing. I talked about how much I loved teaching. He talked about football.
We carefully treaded the waters. Neither of us mentioned current relationships or anything to do with us as a couple—past or present.
Once we’d finished eating, I took our plates to the sink and rinsed them off before putting them in the dishwasher. My dishwasher was on its death bed, making horrendous high-pitched noises lately when it was running, but I’d go as long as possible before replacing it. I added in the soap before starting it.
When I turned back around, Corbin was a few feet away, standing with his hands in his front pockets.
Ugh. This is it.
“Can we talk now?” he asked. “Like no more bullshithow’s the weathershit but actually talk?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice not to shake.
“Do you wanna stay in here or go in the living room?”
“I don’t think it matters, Cor. Let’s just get it over with.”
His gray eyes narrowed. “Get it over with?”
“Yeah,” I said, finding my confidence again. Or maybe I was just good at hiding my true feelings. “What’s done is done, and I don’t see a point in dwelling in the past.”
“It’s how people move forward.” Corbin walked closer. “You know, talking like fucking adults and not running from the past.”
“Funny you should talk aboutrunning,” I retorted, somewhat taken aback by the venom in my words. Looks like I’d held on to more anger than I’d thought. “When you got that damn call from the USC coach, you couldn’t pack your bags fast enough.”
“Seven years later and you’restillpissed about that?” He crossed his arms as a defiant expression crossed his face. “If I remember correctly it wasyouwho said we shouldn’t talk anymore. You. Not me. You cut me out of your life like I was nothing!”
I flinched as he yelled, but I stood my ground.
“And why do you think I did that, Corbin? Huh? You have a brain so why don’t you fucking use it?” I balled my fists and approached him. “You left me! Without so much as a fucking goodbye. We had a fight and you packed your bags and left.”
The anger in his eyes waned as guilt took over. He squared his jaw and stared at me.
“What was I supposed to say to you over the phone?” I continued, becoming angrier by the second. All the pent up rage was at its breaking point. “Beg you to come back home because I was lost without you? Tell you how much I love you and need you? Then what? So you could hate me for the rest of your life for getting in the way of your perfect future? I did what I believed was best for you.”
