The Unexpected Everything - Morgan Matson Page 0,159

with him holding his heart out to me so bravely, I felt myself backing away. Him—this—everything it would mean to continue with this was too scary. It was too much. I would hurt him in the end, and he would hurt me, much worse than either of us were hurting now. So I made myself say it, knowing that, deep down, it was probably the truth. “I don’t think it would work out.”

“What are you saying?” Clark asked, his eyes searching mine, like he could find the truth in them, find what I was really feeling behind the walls I was putting up as fast as I could.

“This was always supposed to be for the summer, right? That’s what I thought.” I looked away from him, down at Bertie, so he wouldn’t see the tears that were forming in my eyes.

“Andie, this isn’t you.”

“It is, though,” I said, fighting back the sob that was forming somewhere in the back of my throat. “Our first date?” I asked, and he nodded. “That was me. We can pretend to be different people for a few months, but . . .” I flashed to my dad, back in his work uniform like nothing had happened, like the entire summer we’d spent could just be erased. “In the end, people don’t change who they are.” I could hear the conviction in my voice as I said this, and as I looked across at Clark, I saw that he was finally starting to believe me.

Bertie flopped down on the ground between us, his head resting on my feet and his tail on Clark’s, but despite how close we were, I could feel a gulf splitting open between us, widening and widening with every passing second.

“Do you really believe that?” he asked, and I knew this was his last shot. His last attempt, my final chance to change our course.

I nodded, swallowing hard. “I do.”

Clark looked away, down the road. When he turned back to me, I could see that he was suddenly farther away from me now, even though he hadn’t actually moved. There was a distance in his eyes that hadn’t been there a moment before. “It’s probably for the best,” he said, his voice still raw but getting more composed with every word. “I mean, I have a lot of work to do. I should probably focus on my book now anyway.”

I nodded, wondering why it hurt me so much to hear him say it when this was my idea and I was the one bringing it about. “Right,” I said, nodding, hoping what I was feeling wasn’t clear in my voice. “Sure.”

I pulled Bertie to his feet and we started walking back toward the house, more space between us than before—we were practically on opposite sides of the road. Neither of us was speaking, and Bertie was walking between us, happily sniffing, not aware that anything had changed. For him, things were still the same—sun and grass and things to smell—while Clark and I were standing in the rubble of what only minutes ago had been our relationship.

The silence seemed to get more oppressive with every step, until I was sure I wouldn’t be able to handle it for much longer. It was like the silence in the car after our first disastrous date, but exponentially worse, since I knew him now—knew who he was, how much he’d meant to me, and exactly what I was walking away from.

When we reached the driveway, I stopped, having reached my limit. “Here,” I said, holding out Bertie’s leash to him, glad that I had my keys in my pocket and that he had his own, and we didn’t have to continue this into the kitchen and have what had the potential to be the world’s most awkward good-bye. Clark took it from me, and Bertie didn’t even seem to notice the handoff, just sat down and started scratching his ear with his back paw. “I’ll tell Maya someone else needs to start walking him now.”

Clark just looked at me for a moment and gave me a smile with no happiness in it. “It’s not necessary,” he said. “I can walk Bert. I mostly just called Maya because I was hoping to see you again.”

It felt like someone had reached into my chest and squeezed my heart, and this continued as he turned away and walked toward the house, Bertie trailing behind him. As I watched them go, my throat got tighter, like it was