apology accepted.” Because he needs to go . . . the hemorrhaging around this knife in my chest isn’t letting up.
But after more strained silence, he keeps talking. “I’ve got a lot of stuff going on right now, and uh . . . yeah, a lot of stuff.”
“Fair enough.” My voice is flat, not showing him an ounce of the pain he’s causing me. I refuse to give him any more of myself than I already have.
“Look at me, please.”
His pleading tone yanks the cover off my simmering emotions. “Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be, okay?” I whisper, hating that I feel a tear sliding down my cheek.
“I said I’m sorry, El.” His earnestness twists the blade in further. “I really am. You just don’t understand how much pressure I’m under.”
I huff out a disbelieving breath and turn to him, a spark of indignation fueling the steadiness in my voice. “I do understand, Scott. I understand perfectly. With everything you’ve got going on, I don’t rate.”
I watch the beginnings of alarm register on his face. Good. It goads me to continue.
“I don’t even rate a simple text to cancel our plans. You’ve made yourself very clear.”
He’s completely taken aback. “What? Of course you . . . rate. And what plans?”
I snort with derision. “We’re done here, Scott. I’d like you to go, please.”
“Done? What does that mean?”
He can’t really be this obtuse, can he? “It means that we’re at an impasse. You feel that I’m not worth your time and effort and I disagree. Let’s leave it at that.”
He’s offended or horrified or maybe shocked, but I don’t know why.
“That’s not true. I just got overwhelmed, I –”
“Stop. Please stop.” Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I decide to explain my point of view, so there’ll be no room for later re-interpretation. “You let me go all day Saturday thinking that everything was fine.” I swallow hard. “No, not fine. You let me believe that everything was wonderful. That was shitty.” I’m on my feet now, the rawness of my emotions swirling with the humiliation and the anger I’ve been stewing in for the last day. It’s potent and it drives me on. “I wasn’t expecting a marriage proposal or anything, Scott, but I thought . . .” I falter “. . . I thought it was good between us.”
I start walking down the path. I don’t want to do this, I don’t want him to see me cry, I don’t want to pretend I’m fine.
“El,” he calls. “El, wait.”
I don’t make it very far before he’s stopping me with a hand around my elbow. I yank away from his touch. “Listen,” I tell him forcefully before he can come up with more excuses. “I get that it’s my fault. I built it up in my head. I obviously saw things that weren’t there, felt things that weren’t real. I even heard it from your own lips. Nadie importante. That’s what you said, right? That I’m no one important.”
His head jerks back with surprise. “You speak Spanish?”
My mouth twists. “That’s really not the point here. The point is that you’re not interested in a relationship and I’m not interested in being a booty call.”
By the look on his face, I’ve hit the truth dead center, which twists the knife in my chest viciously.
After a few moments of silence, I wipe my cheeks free of the tears before I zip off the hoodie. “I want you to have this back.” I can’t get my voice above a whisper and when I hold it out to him, he scarcely notices it. Pushing it at him, I say, “You asked me why I didn’t turn you over to the cops that night and I didn’t tell you the truth.”
That registers more with him as he takes the sweater, his strangely vulnerable expression jiggling the knife some more.
“I didn’t turn you over to the cops, Scott, because I wanted to repay you for what you did for me.”
“What?” he croaks, completely confused.
“Do you remember that girl on the sidewalk in Mountain View? About a year ago? Her phone was dead and she had no money.”
He blinks, and then I watch as the memory comes back to him. “The one with the ripped dress?”
I flinch. “Yeah, her.” He still hasn’t put it together, but he’s about to. I look away so I’ll never see his disappointment, never witness his disgust.
“El?”
I clear my throat. “That was me.” Dead silence. “Well,