Nick rubs his hands over his face. “A freak-out? What does that mean?”
I shift from foot to foot. “Well, the wedding’s coming up, and I have so much to do, and I burned a pie and then I fell off a ladder and crushed a bunch of poms and I—”
Nick holds out a hand. “No.”
I stop talking. “No what?”
He shakes his head, looking at his feet. “No, I can’t help you.”
“But I’m . . .” I attempt to take the whine out of my voice. “I’m having a personal crisis.”
“Chloe.” Nick looks up and meets my eyes. “When aren’t you having a personal crisis?”
I swallow again, hard. “I . . . I thought you would help me.”
“Because I always do, right? Because you can treat me however you want and I’ll always be here?”
My mouth goes dry. “What do you mean, treat you however I want?”
Nick crosses his arms. “You’ve been ignoring me for a week.”
“It’s not my fault I don’t want a relationship,” I say, my voice shaking. “I was honest with you about that. You knew I was screwed-up and busy and—”
Nick shakes his head. “You weren’t exactly honest, though, were you, Chloe? I knew this would happen. I knew it would, but you kept doing your thing until I broke down and thought maybe you were serious. Maybe you actually wanted to take a chance on this, to have a real relationship.”
Someone walks by with a golden retriever, and neither of us says anything until they’re out of earshot.
“But you’re doing what you always do,” Nick whispers, even though no one’s around anymore to hear. “You’re showing up only when you need my help.”
“I don’t just show up when I need your help!” I almost shout. “We’re friends. Friends help each other.”
“This.” Nick points between us. “This is not how friends act. I can’t keep being your unpaid, on-call therapist.”
“Well, I wouldn’t have sex with my therapist. That would be a serious ethical breach on their part.”
“Cool,” Nick mutters. “Keep making everything into a joke, like you always do.”
“We are friends, Nick.”
“I don’t want to be your friend.”
“Why not?” I ask, tears springing to my eyes.
“Because I’m in love with you!” he shouts. “Isn’t it obvious?”
I drop the bag of pom supplies, then kneel and start picking things up. Some of the tissue paper has come out of the stuffed-full bag and now it’s on the ground, soaking in rainwater, getting completely ruined. It’s fine. Anything to avoid standing up and facing Nick again.
The stillness of the night expands around us, the only sound the gentle swish of a car driving slowly by.
He groans. “Let’s forget this entire conversation ever happened, okay? Forget anything either of us said.”
I stand up, nodding, inspecting my bag. “Yep. Okay.”
“Hey.” Nick leans in, forcing me to meet his eyes. “This doesn’t change anything about work. I would never do that. You have a job here as long as you want one. But I can’t keep doing the rest of this anymore, okay?”
I nod.
His voice softens. “Please don’t keep doing this to me, Chloe.”
“Okay, um.” I gather my bags under my arms. “I need to . . . be somewhere. Now. Bye.”
I start off down the sidewalk and Nick calls after me, his voice resigned, like he can’t help himself. “Do you need help?”
God, even when he hates me, he can’t stop himself from helping me. He’s too perfect.
I lift one hand in a wave without looking back, then almost drop my bag. “I’m good. See you at work.”
I speed-walk around the corner, tears rolling down my face. What the hell? My tears were neatly contained for years, but this week I’m a geyser. What is wrong with me?
And what the hell did I do to Nick? It was pretty clear, from both his words and his expression, that I hurt him. Deeply. Someone who only wanted to help me and all I did was take advantage of him, use him, play with his emotions like this was all a game for me. He said he loved me, and I . . .
Well.
I care about him, so much. Obviously. But I don’t have room in my sad, broken heart to love anybody. Nick deserves better than a girl who treats him like this, who weasels her way into his heart only to blow the whole thing up. He deserves better than someone whose entire life is already dedicated to other people. He deserves better than me.