EXcapades (20 page)

Chapter 13

We arrived at my house almost four agonizing hours later. Blake carried my bags inside and set them down in the living room. When I stepped toward him, he backed away and bumped into the couch.
What is he hiding from me? His eyes haven’t met my gaze all afternoon.

As if reading my thoughts, he looked me straight in the eye with his inscrutable gaze. He cleared his throat. “Look, I have been doing a lot of thinking,” he said. He raked his fingers through his tousled hair and rubbed his head.

I couldn’t help but focus on his magnificence. And, oh my, was he perfect, even distraught or angry, whatever it was.
But this lead-up did not sound good. Just tell me what you need to tell me.
“Okay,” I said.

There was an uncomfortable pause. “I’m not sure how to . . . say this.”

My body responded instinctively. The muscles on the back of my neck tightened; the contractions continued down my legs and left my feet numb. I reached for a solid surface—a table—to brace myself. And, of course, just my luck, I grabbed my grandmother’s fragile antique table. I knocked it forward, sending the table tumbling to the ground. “Darn it,” I muttered, watching it crash to the floor. I was a calamity waiting to happen.

Blake shook his head. He looked at me with pity.

“As I was saying, Lila, before you started tossing furniture around. I have been giving this a lot of thought.” His voice sounded colder than his usual warm intonation. “I have come to a conclusion: things are going too quickly for me.”

“Really?”

He continued in that unfamiliar harsh voice. “Maybe we should slow this down and not see each other.” I spun on my heels and looked at him with my eyes bulging. Blake saw the utter surprise on my face, but his expression was indecipherable. He paused a few seconds to let me absorb the depths of what he was saying. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us, and I just don’t think this is working for us.” Blake watched my stricken expression as he said the words.

Instantly,
I wanted to shout at him . . . what? I felt like the relationship was progressing and then, smack, this bombshell. I needed to press him for answers, but instead I crossed my arms. I squeezed myself in an effort to quell my hurt. And I said nothing.

I looked at him, dumbfounded, and asked him when I finally caught my breath, “I thought we were having an amazing time. What changed your mind?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

And there I stood, cast in the shadow of his doubt, with him avoiding my eyes.

I felt a surge of fiery anger rip through me. I was raging inside, and it pushed out of me with driving power. My rushing hostility made me speak before thinking clearly, and I blurted out, “You just needed to be the one to break up with me this time.”

Blake snapped back with equal force. “You’re just too upset to be rational about anything. This just doesn’t work.” But his eyes appeared to say something else.

My confusion escalated. And so did my temper. “I thought the sweet things you said to me the past few weeks were true. Silly me, for believing you. For believing in you.”

“I never promised you anything. Why are you so upset?”

My temper continued to light up quickly. I was letting him see one more side of me I tried to hide—my fire. Finally, I took a deep breath, trying to regain control. “I guess I’m like a firecracker—once you light my fuse, there’s no turning back,” I said.

Blake huffed. “Are you telling me I should run for cover?”

I stood with my hands pressed into my hip bones. “I said firecracker, not bomb, for crying out loud,” I snapped.

Blake looked at me and laughed. “Good one.”

He stretched his fingers across his cheek and scratched. I could hear the faint sound of his fingertips rubbing against his dark stubble. For a moment, I thought about the coarse feel of his whiskers between my thighs. But then the reality of his words struck me again.

My jaw tensed. “Was this what you strived for all along, to make me want you and then cast me aside? You know, you made me think you cared about me.”
Why did I ever think this was a good idea, us reuniting?

Blake did not hesitate before he spoke. “I guess you got it all wrong.”

My mind was racing full force.
I want you in my life.
I do.
“Are you tossing me aside the way you think I did to you years ago?” I paused, waiting for him to say something. He just gaped at me in silence.

Blake looked as if he felt anger surge within him, but was forcing himself to remain calm.
He turned away, possibly trying to contain his boiling rage. At last, he found his words and grumbled in an annoyed tone, “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

I glanced out the window and saw a small brown bird standing on the windowsill. It looked toward the glass as if wanting to come inside. At that instant, there was a slight break between the dense clouds. A shaft of sunlight cut across the sky. And then I watched the bird fly away.
I want to take off, too.

A lump swelled in my throat, and in a voice that quavered, I continued. “
Blake, I’m sorry for speaking out of anger. I know we have years of frustration built up within us. Just yesterday you told me kind and special words. And then today, this . . . revelation. I’m angry and confused.”

His voice wavered. “I want out. I have nothing left to say.”

Finally, I managed to get another question out, trying to stay composed. “But I have to ask you again. What happened today that made you feel this way?”

I watched for the faintest change of expression on his face, but there was none.
He made his decision. Let it go. Let him
go . . . again.
Yet, he was still in my house discussing our situation. He wouldn’t still be here if he didn’t care.

“Really, there’s nothing to discuss,” he said in an explosive voice that overrode my faltering, soft words. The booming sound of his voice must have startled him, for he lowered it. He softened his tone as he continued. “It’s over.”

I sulked and asked him with my eyes if it had to be this way. No response; he looked away. I had to face the truth: in his mind, this was over.
But he is still here, so there is a chance.
His mind might not be entirely made up . . . yet.

In my confusion I started to wonder, was that what happened when you shared such a powerful attraction—you repelled each other with equal power? Certainly that couldn’t be right. Could it?

He stared at me, nostrils flaring and broke the silence. “Well, do you think you can just weave in and out of my life as you please?”

“Blake, what are you talking about? We discussed in great detail what happened years ago. I thought we were past all of that.”

I caught a pained looked that flashed across his face. “Believe it or not, I cared about you, about us. Once. . . .” As Blake continued to speak, the telephone rang. “Get that,” he said through gritted teeth. “I need to sort out my thoughts anyway.”

I, too, was grateful to have a momentary change of focus.

When I returned, he surprised me by slamming his fist on the back of the chair. “You broke my heart. I was
upset for a long time. I got over it, of course, but I was really hurt. Youthful love carries some powerful feelings. Your first love stays in your heart . . . always.”

“Yes.”

He stared at me with an intensity I had not seen before now. I flinched as he spoke, looking away to avoid his searing gaze.
“Be careful who you choose, right? Aren’t those your words? You were my heart’s desire. Now my heart is scarred deep. It grew cold around those scars.”

“Mine, too.”

Are the people who have become cold-hearted the ones who once cared too much?

He rolled his head downward, staring from under lowered brows, and continued lecturing me. “Now just because you feel ready to love again, you just think I can forgive and forget. No way. Don’t get me wrong. The sex is still amazing, but sex is just sex.”

He did not just say that.

“Is that how you feel?”

“As far as love, I just can’t love you back.”

I must have looked like a small child staring bewildered at an angry grown-up as I asked in a voice higher than my own, “What about those times recently when you said I was all you ever needed? What about all of that?” My voice grew tighter. “Why did you tell me those things?”

He looked down and could not meet my gaze. “I guess I’m creative. I enjoy writing a good story—but my stories are pure fiction.”

I gasped and stared at him, my eyes full of pain. “Ouch. That stung.”

“That’s why we need to stop seeing each other.” Blake just stood in rigid silence, staring at the wall. “I don’t want to lead you on or for you to think this is more than it is. And besides, I have to be honest, our breakup years ago taints my view of a future with you. Can you blame me?”

I flinched. “I did end it abruptly years ago. Maybe we shouldn’t have tried it again.” I shook my head. “I thought we could try it as adults, but I guess our lives don’t mix at close range.” In the end, I guess none of our discussions really mattered if he was going to stay angry with me. But I felt the unrelenting urge to ask if we could keep trying. “Can’t we just have fun and enjoy each other? It’s not as if I’m proposing marriage here. Does it really have to be all or nothing?”

In the silence that followed, I could hear Blake release a sigh.

He smiled a twisted grin. “You’re completely unafraid because you have never been hurt by me before. Well, I
have . . . so I walked very slowly into this one. And now it is time for me to leave.”

“How can you say that when you haven’t even given us a second chance,” I said. I studied him with such intensity. “You have me craving an eggroll with sweet and sour sauce.”

He looked at me curiously. “What in the world are you talking about now?”

“You can be so sweet, but you can also be so damn sour.” Simultaneously, with the last word I spoke, I felt a slight throbbing discomfort in my side—fortunately, not quite as severe as the stabbing pain I usually felt.

He glared. “Why do you think I’m sour, just because I have doubts and I’m not sure about any of this?”

I shook my head. “Could we even take this relationship back to the level we had in college? Honestly, I don’t think either of us can feel that kind of love anymore.”

“I know.”

I pushed my fingers through my hair. “We have too many scars and walls that we have put up over the years. We have learned to be more guarded with our feelings, so we can’t be hurt as easily.”

He said nothing for a moment. “Maybe it is better we not try again.”

I gasped. “We know better than to jump in feet first. That naive innocence we once had is gone. I think we can still have something special. It’ll just be different.”

We could never move forward if he kept looking back. Did I need to get on my knees and beg? Honestly, maybe Blake and I had nothing but a fling. Just because, I fell in love with him again, didn’t mean he had fallen in love with me. Now I had no choice but to face the truth; it was over.

Suddenly the pain in my abdomen surged again; this time it surfaced as a sharp sensation that pressed inward. For the first time, I barely noticed, as if I could not even feel it through the ache in my heart.

At that same moment, Blake must have registered the pained look that flashed across my face. He shot me a thoughtful glance. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I just didn’t think I could handle being hurt again. The first time tore me up. I can’t imagine what a second time would feel like,” he said, as gently as he could manage.

He stepped toward me. Only a couple feet separated us.

“Until this afternoon, I thought everything was going great,” I said. It might have been the sight of me so emotional, or in physical pain, that made Blake realize how much his words upset me. Something changed in his attitude.

He smiled. “I didn’t fully realize how much I cared about you until I saw the way you reacted to my harsh words. But you don’t need to look so hurt anymore. I just saw it in your sad stare and heard it in your voice. You do want this relationship to work. And, honestly, so do I, more than anything,” he said, in a soothing voice.

“I thought it was working.”
I am confused now.
My brain was buzzing.

Blake hesitated. “I get it now—we both have feelings. But if you’re serious about having a relationship with me, then why did you tell me you were leaving me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Lila, let me ask you something. Earlier today you told me in your mumbling state –when you were falling asleep—you said that you’re leaving me. Do you remember that one? Care to elaborate?”

I shot him a puzzled glance. “Is that what you were upset about? I remember lying down on the bed, but after that it gets hazy. Was that what you heard me say? And was that what this sudden departure is all about?” The realization finally hit me
. He thought I wanted out again!

“Well . . .”

I sighed. “I’m so sorry if that’s what you have been thinking, but that is the furthest from the truth. I want you in my life, more than anything.”