I CLOSE the distance between us. I’m not going to give her the luxury of lying to me from afar. She knows exactly what this house means to me—what it once meant to us. It’s hard to even look at her, I’m so fucking upset with her. I’m done with her pretending that she doesn’t remember our past. It’s so fucking ingrained in my mind, and in my heart, that I can’t fucking fathom that she doesn’t remember things that have haunted me for years.
I know damn well she remembers how we’d planned out everything she’d want in a house. It was the same night I tasted her for the first time. The first time I got to watch her fall apart under the stars.
And she’s staring at me like she doesn’t remember a fucking thing.
The tips of my boots stop right in front of her, almost touching the tips of hers with the proximity of our bodies. “Look me in the fucking eye and tell me you don’t remember.”
The tears running down her cheeks should bother me, but I don’t give a damn about them. She can cry all she wants, at least the tears are proof that she remembers something. I want to hold her, to tell her how deep down I hate to see her cry. But right now I can’t see through the anger—the hurt—of her pretending that for one summer, she and I weren’t each other’s world. For me, she stayed my world every day after.
Her bottom lip trembles. Her head rocks back and forth as she fights the sob that sounds from low in her throat.
A resigned sigh falls from my lips. I can’t fucking do this. Not with my current mental state. Not with her making us seem like we were nothing.
I yank her chin, forcing her to look at me. Even with the fury coursing through my veins, I can’t help but wipe the tears from her cheeks. I hate to see them, but I hate her lying more.
I’m so fucking mad at her.
I’m so fucking gone for her.
Always have been, always will be.
“I’m not going to waste my breath,” I seethe. “If you’re going to be a fucking coward, then be a coward, Goldie. But I don’t want to be anywhere near you when you’re reducing everything that’s happened between us—past and present—to nothing.”
My hands fall to my sides in defeat. Stepping away from her, I walk to the driver’s side of my truck. I climb in, staring blankly ahead as I wait for her to get in the cab. It’ll be an awkward few moments between us, but I can do it as long as I know that I’m close to escaping her presence.
My chest constricts at the memory of kissing her earlier. For a fleeting moment, it felt like she was mine again. The moment disappeared into thin air all too quickly. She’s already slipped through my fingertips. I didn’t have time to get a good grip, to find a way to keep her for a little longer.
After she silently slides into the seat next to mine, I angrily throw the truck into reverse and back out of the driveway.
Neither one of us utter a single word as I drive us to the house. The tension surrounding us is thick. Earlier it was with want and need. Now it’s just with anger and pain.
I expect her to leave the moment I put the truck in park in the driveway. She doesn’t. It’s even worse, she stays and turns her body to face mine.
I don’t look at her. I can’t look at her. If I do, I might tell her she could keep on lying if it just meant I could have one more happy moment with her. If even for a few seconds we could pretend that shit hasn’t gone up in flames between us.
“Cade,” she whispers, my name coming out like a plea on her lips.
My hand brushes over my mouth as I still avoid looking at her. “What?” I bite.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re going to have to elaborate on what.”
“Forget I said anything,” she responds, pushing the door open and hopping down onto the concrete.
I open the door, clearly unable to just fucking let things go with her. “Say what you want to say, Mare!” I yell.
She stops in the driveway, spinning on the heels of her cowboy boots to look at me. “I think I’d rather not. You just called me a coward and told me you didn’t want to be near me. It was stupid of me to say anything after.”
I lied. I do think she’s being a coward, but I always want to be near her. That’s the fucking problem. “What are you sorry for, Goldie?” I press.
There’s a lot of distance between us, but when our eyes connect it feels like we’re chest to chest. “I’m sorry for making things complicated for you,” she finally answers.
Her words catch me off guard. They weren’t what I was expecting. I figured she’d apologize for acting like she didn’t remember, or maybe even for stopping our kiss. I wasn’t expecting this. “Complicated?”
“Yes, complicated. I shouldn’t have kissed you, Cade. It hasn’t been long since your mom and god, I know I should’ve been strong and resisted you because the last thing you need is for me to make things more complicated for you. So I’m sorry.”
I’m so stunned by her words that I don’t speak. Her denying us is complicated. In fact, the only thing that is clear and makes sense in this fucked up world I’m living in right now is her.
But clearly she doesn’t see it that way. And I’m not going to sit here and try to convince her otherwise. With a resigned sigh, I turn away, not wanting to exchange another single word with her.
I’m tired of speaking. I’m tired in general. And I know that crawling into my bed alone tonight will mean another sleepless night without her by my side.
Turning around, I angrily yank the hat off my head and shove it into her chest.
She looks at me confused, two tiny creases forming on her forehead. “Call us complicated all you fucking want if that’s what makes you feel better. But stop pretending that, at times like this, we aren’t exactly what we need for one another. It’s always been that way.”
I leave her standing there, my hat clutched to her chest as I get in my truck.
She knows how I feel. What I want. It’s up to her to decide how to proceed.
