“When I’m with you, I can pretend like I’m my old self again, but I’m not, am I? It’s just another indulgence, another way to distract myself from dealing with all this shit. I can’t be everything you need right now. And it’s not fair to you.”
“What you’re giving me is more than enough,” I assure him. I take his face between both of my hands, forcing him to look at me. “You don’t have to give me anything else.” I need him to see that. Need him to see me.
“Some things are beyond help.” He sighs. “It was selfish of me to let things get even this far. You deserve someone who can give you more than just a little piece of himself. Someone who doesn’t just use you to keep his mind off of the things he’s too much of a coward to face.”
I feel sick to my stomach.
“No,” I say. “No. I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but you’re not a coward. And if you think you can scare me away by telling me that I’d be better off without you, then you don’t know me very well.”
“Then you’re a fool,” he says. “And I’ve been too selfish.”
I shake my head, but I can’t seem to form any words. I know where this is going, and I don’t want to hear it. I can’t bear to hear it.
“I need time, Lily,” he says. “I need to figure some things out.”
“Time,” I repeat, completely numb. “How much?”
He doesn’t answer, which is an answer in and of itself.
He’s dumping me.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I can’t breathe. I ca escapes my lips before I can stop it. wshn’t speak. I can only nod, and even that feels like a betrayal of the emotions rushing through me.
“I’m sorry,” he says again. He sounds completely defeated.
I want to argue, to insist that I can help him. I want to tell him that he doesn’t have to deal with this alone. But there’s a lump in my throat that won’t let me, and I can only be grateful that I’m strong enough to hold back my tears until I reach my car.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Where did everything go wrong?
When Calder met me at the door, he grabbed me as if he couldn’t bear to be away from me for a moment longer. Hell, we got so caught up in each other that we literally set the kitchen on fire. It was only a few days ago that he confessed he needed me. What’s changed? Or has the guilt been there all along, just carefully hidden away?
I’m a mess at work the next day. I do my best to avoid both Morgan and my dad because I can’t bear for either of them to see me like this. I spend the better part of the day out of my office, doing inventory in the supply room. That way, when I inevitably find my eyes welling up again, there’s no one there to see.
I’m completely pathetic.
I grab a box of crayons from the nearest shelf and hurl it across the supply room. It hits something and the cardboard box splits open, spilling crayons everywhere.
“Fuck him!” I say, throwing another box, then another. “Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him!”
This time I don’t pay attention to what I’m grabbing. It’s not until my latest projectile hits the wall that I realize I’ve just hurled a pack of paints across the room. They explode, splattering the wall and floor and a stack of blank white canvases in the process.
I sink down to my knees, too overwhelmed to look at the damage.
I’m an idiot. After my last disaster of a relationship, I promised myself that I’d take things slowly in the future. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let my emotions race ahead of my common sense. Calder,” Calder says" aid=" certainly’s been blowing hot and cold for a couple of weeks now. He’s been keeping secrets, holding back on me. Those were all signs to step back, to keep my emotions in check, but of course I ignored them.
I can’t blame him. I can only blame myself.
But acknowledging that doesn’t make me feel any better. I bury my face in my hands, trying to fight back the sobs that rise in my throat.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Calder and I—we were something different. My body reacts to him as it’s never reacted to any man before. But what we had goes deeper than that intense physical connection. My time at his estate changed me. Calder challenged me. He made me feel wilder, stronger, and more alive than I’ve ever felt before. I don’t want to go back to being “ordinary” me again.
I don’t know how long I sit like that, but it’s much longer than I mean to.
Dammit. When did I turn into such a blubbering mess?
I wipe my face on my sleeve and force myself to take a deep breath. I can’t do this. If I let myself sit around and think about Calder, I’m never going to get anything done.
I drag myself over to the mess I’ve made and begin cleaning it up. I won’t think about last night. I’m stronger than that.
It’s easier said than done, of course.
Every time I close my eyes I see his face—his dark eyes and his strong jaw and his perfect lips. I see the dusting of stubble on his cheeks, the soft curls of hair around his ears. Sometimes he looks upon me with such emotion and desire I feel my heart swelling in my chest, but other times his expression is distant and closed off, and I feel a new stab of pain through my belly.
I’m being selfish, I know. I can never truly understand what he’s going through. His entire life has turned upside-down this past year, and it will only change more in the coming months. He needs to figure out who he is without the money, and he needs to do it on his own.
But why did he let things get this far? Why did he take me out to a beautiful restaurant or kiss me as if he could never have enough of the taste of me? It was a cruel, heartless joke.
The tears have mostly dried by the time I’ve finished cleaning up the crayons and paint. The numbness has set in again, but at least I know I can get things done when the emotions are at bay. I stop by the bathroom to splash water on my face and freshen up a bit“Ask me.”
* * *
The package arrives the next week. It takes two men to haul it into the Center.
I’m still playing damage control, trying to repair our image now that the disgruntled Gina Billings has called every donor she could find through our lists. My dad decided to refund her deposit—against my own advice—and the loss of funds has set us back some more. The work helps me keep my mind off of Calder, at least, but the unexpected delivery still comes as a welcome diversion.