Page 141 of Broken Like This by Bethany

My heart aches.

But that’s not enough. Because I hear it. The opening bars ofLove Like Thisby Ben Rector.Our song.I’ve skillfully avoided this song since we broke up. If I heard it playing, I ran the hell away. I haven’t touched our playlist. I cannot do this. Not this song. Not this night. I can’t keep pretending it’s okay when it’s not.

I sit up and back away. “I can’t do this.”

He sits up, surprised. “What?”

“Turn this song off, please. I can’t.”

He reaches for me, but I slide back, pulling my knees up to my chest. “Rae, I—”

“Turn it off!” I yell, tears rushing to my eyes.

“O—okay.” He quickly grabs his phone and turns off the song. “Rae—”

“What are we doing, Aaron? What… are… we?” I ask as sobs form in my chest.

“We—we’re…” He looks flustered. “We’re doing what we’ve been—”

“You wanted to spend tonight together. I let myself hope. We kissed, but you stopped it. Then the wishes. Our playlist. This song! God. And you, you seem so freaking confident now. So strong and sure of yourself. You’re the most amazing version of you I’ve ever known and yet—”

“What?” he asks, trying to make sense of my babbling.

“None of it’s enough. I know I don’t know what’s going on inside of you, but you seem… better. I guess I hoped we’d be back together by now. Or that’s what this night was about. I’m ready for this, Aaron. I’m ready for us. No more uncertainty. All in this time. I want us. Do you?”

He blinks his eyes closed and takes a long breath. I close my eyes and rest my head on my knees. That look says it all.

His presence invades my space as his hands wrap around mine. “Rae, look at me, please.”

I squeeze my eyes shut tighter before reluctantly opening them again and meeting his intense gaze.

“I hate when you cry,” he whispers, quickly wiping my cheeks and then taking my hands again.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I don’t mean to push you. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he breathes. “That’s why I wanted to spend tonight together. Maybe that was a mistake.”

I shake my head. “I’m glad we did. But sometimes we blur the lines too much. Kissing you was pushing it—but I started that. The music? Our song? It’s too much right now. It hurts. I want us, and—”

“I’m not there yet,” he says, though his face is conflicted. “I don’t know when I will be, and I don’t want to lead you on. I’m sorry if tonight did that.”

I laugh a little as I drop my knees and scooch closer to him, wiping my cheeks in the process. “I did it to myself. I got caught up in the fantasy of us and lost sight of reality.”

The reality is that we aren’t together. We aren’t close to being back together. I need to stop pretending we are.

“Are we okay?” he asks softly. “I don’t want things to be weird between us.” I give him a knowing look and he laughs. “Weirder than they are. I know this is hard.”

“How hard?” I ask in a husky voice.

He laughs loudly but quickly turns serious again, forehead resting against mine. “We’ll get there.”

I nod, my forehead rolling against his, and slowly pull away.

One day. Who knows when that will be?

I sit up straighter, resolve strengthening within me.

This has to stop.

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