Kiss To Forget (Blairwood University #2) - Anna B. Doe Page 0,104

them. I’m not even sure why that is the first question that comes to my mind. But it’s already out there, and there is no going back.

Nixon just stands there, staring at me. The longer he’s silent, the more my stomach clenches with unease.

“Nixon?”

“I—” Nixon massages his temples with slow movements. “I can’t do this, Yasmin,” he repeats as if those words explain everything.

What does that even mean? I want to scream at him, demand he give me an answer, but it’s like I’m glued to this spot, unable to move.

“Can’t or won’t?”

Instantly, I feel bad for putting him in this position. He’s been dealing with so much, and I’m asking him about us?

Is there even an us? We never defined anything. It was supposed to be just that one time. Until that one time became two and then three and then four. Until being without him left me wondering what he was up to and what was going on in his life. Until there was an ache in my heart when he wasn’t around or when I saw him hurting. Until I wanted to erase that hurt and make him feel better.

He lets his hand fall down, his fingers clenching in a tight fist. “Can’t. I can’t be what you need and at the same time take care of my family.”

“I can help you.” I grip his hand in mine. “Let me.”

But before I can even finish he’s already shaking his head no. It shouldn’t hurt, but it does.

“You’ve spent more than enough time here, Yasmin. I have to figure this shit out on my own.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to push me away and stay here to deal with this on your own?”

“It’s best like that.”

“For who?”

“For everybody.”

“Liar.”

The word echoes in the empty night. My chest is heaving as I watch him, waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he stays utterly stoic, his face wiped of any expression.

My heart aches for him, for me, for us. But at the same time I know there isn’t anything I can do. If Nixon has decided he has to deal with this on his own, he’ll do it like that regardless of what anybody says.

Closing my eyes for a second, I force my lungs to open so I can inhale deeply. Only when I know I won’t break, do I look at him.

“Goodbye, Nixon,” I whisper, and then I walk away, leaving my heart behind.

“Have you talked to him?” Callie whispers in my ear.

“Nope, just like I said the other thousand times you asked,” I say, not bothering to lift my eyes from the screen as I continue typing away.

Sighing, she leans her head on my shoulder. “He’ll come around, I know it. He just needs time.”

That’s what she’s been telling me for days, ever since we left Nixon without saying goodbye. I wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince anymore, herself or me? Well, we didn’t say goodbye, since he didn’t bother walking us out. Nixon and I, we said what we had to, now the ball is in his court. I offered to help. He didn’t want it—didn’t want me.

“Maybe.”

I wasn’t so sure about it, but I didn’t want to get into that discussion. Not now, not ever, and definitely not with Callie.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m not the one who lost her mother, Callie. I’m fine. Just busy.”

Since coming back to campus, I’ve thrown myself into work. It was easier than thinking about a certain brokenhearted guy. And more pressing. I hadn’t even realized how much I missed. I’ve always tried my best to be ahead in my classes so I could juggle all of it, but it feels like all I’ve been doing the last few days is running against time.

There was homework to finish, reading to catch up on, essays to write, shifts to cover, and classes to attend. I was working myself to the bone, barely getting a couple of hours of sleep each night, and even after a week I still haven’t caught up on everything.

My professors were already giving me dirty looks because I’ve missed a few classes and couldn’t keep up with what we were working on, but no matter how much I tried, there was just never enough time in the day.

It feels like history repeating itself, and that’s what scares me. First semester I worked really hard to get where I was at and, in the span of a few weeks, it all fell apart like a