His eyes are so sad. The light that was there—the light that I loved seeing in them, the light that I sought out—is gone.
“You’re leaving?” I ask, stating the obvious. My voice is shakier than I expected it would be.
Nate’s eyebrows knit together, and he swallows as he nods slowly. “Yeah. My flight leaves early tomorrow, I’ll just get a hotel room near the airport.”
This completely unexpected spark of anger rips through me when I hear his words, and I can’t control myself.
“Maybe stop by the bar?” It’s a low blow, possibly the only thing I could say that would hurt him. I hate myself for even saying it; I’m not that petty and mean.
His eyes widen in shock, like I’ve just slapped him.
God, I’d give anything to take that back.
“That is so fucking unfair, Callie,” he says, his voice gravely and low.
I tilt my head down to look at my fingers, which are all knotted up in my lap. I can’t even look him in the eye. “I know,” I say. I think back to the first night that we met, how I thought he was just some playboy looking to score. Knowing him the way I do now, it seems especially unfair that I’ve chosen to use that night against him. “That night when we met you said that you had never done something like that before, and you were so at ease. I thought…” I shake my head, wishing I hadn’t said anything at all. This isn’t going to help matters.
“So, you think this is an act for me, but…I’m just supposed to take your actions at face value?” he asks. I can see the anger simmering in his eyes, so cloudy and blue.
“I don’t think it’s an act. I shouldn’t have said that, I don’t know why I did.”
“I know why you did.” He’s gripping the handle of his bag so tightly that his knuckles are white. Oh, how I want to reach out and soothe them.
“No you don’t,” I reply, even though I’m not entirely sure that he’s wrong.
“I’m sorry Ethan cheated on you, Callie. And I’m sorry that you don’t think you can trust me.”
I think I can trust him, and that’s precisely what my problem is. I’ve thought that so many times before, only to be let down. I don’t say anything, because I have nothing to say, really.
“You want some kind of guarantee that I’m not Ethan, that I’m not an asshole. And you know what?” he says, raising his right arm in exasperation before it comes down and lands with a slap against the side of his thigh. He watches me with intent eyes, and I feel like he can see right through me, right to the heart of me. Like he can see everything that makes me who I am. If I were capable of doing such a thing, I almost think I’d shrink under his gaze. “I don’t think you’re scared of success or failure, of whether or not our relationship would work out. I think you’re scared of life. I think you’re scared of living.”
“I’m scared of getting my heart broken again, Nate,” I say, and that is very much true. But what I don’t tell him is that I’m scared that my inability to fully commit might wind up breaking his. “You don’t need to read into it more than that.”
“What do you want me to tell you?” he says, completely ignoring the last part of what I just told him. His voice is getting a little louder, and he drops his bag to the ground with a loud thud. “Do you want me to tell you that I’m not that guy, Callie? That I won’t do that? I could say those words a million times, but you wouldn’t believe it, because you don’t think you deserve someone who doesn’t treat you like shit. Your dad left, Ethan cheated on you.” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes before they focus on me, all clear and blue and full of hurt. “You think that’s what you get.”
I stand up, pulled to my feet by the sudden rush of anger I’m feeling. I’ve known him one week and suddenly he thinks he’s my therapist? “You don’t know shit about me, Nate.” I practically spit out the words, but even though I’m angry and rightfully so, they don’t sound right when I say them. “How dare you throw that in my face.”
For a moment that’s so fleeting I almost think I imagined it, he looks completely wrecked. But he doesn’t apologize; instead he takes a step forward, locking his eyes with mine. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. “I know that you twirl your hair when you’re nervous,” he says, and all the anger I heard in his voice only seconds ago is completely gone. Everything about him now is just very soft. Gentle. Like the whole world hangs in the balance of this conversation. “I know that you hum off key, and that you don’t realize the effect that you have on people…the effect you have on me. I know that you say my name in your sleep, and I know you want to change the world. I know that you’ve got a smile that just…” he trails off, pressing his lips together as he taps his fingers on his chest, right over his heart. “I know that I’m falling in love with you. And I know, I know that you’re falling in love with me, too. And I know that we can spend the rest of our lives figuring out the rest.”
When Nate finishes talking, he looks kind of stunned, like he just let everything spill out of him without even realizing that he did it.
I am stunned. The rest of our lives rings in my ears, filling me with dread. Breaking up with Ethan hurt me, there’s no denying that. But Nate…it would be so much worse if I lost him. And I know that now, after only a week. How will I feel in a month? A year?
“It’s not that simple,” I say, trying so hard not to cry. I want him so badly, I just can’t let myself have him. It’s so easy to be idealistic when we’re standing here thinking about forever. It would be different trying to make it work in the real world.
Nate reaches forward, and I’m surprised when his warm hand wraps around mine because the distance between us feels too great to be spanned by just a simple touch. The pad of his thumb brushes across my knuckles, and my eyelids flutter at the contact. “It is that simple,” he says, looking down at our hands. “You’re just trying to complicate things so it’ll be easier for you to walk away from me. I know you’re thinking of the what ifs, wondering if I’m just like him; if I’m charming you now just to hurt you later.”
“I’m not thinking it,” I say, my voice very quiet. “I’m scared of it.”
“Maybe,” Nate replies, sighing. “But I think you’re really scared that I’m not like him. That I am who I say I am, that I can and will love you the way I say I will. That maybe this is it.”
I look up at him, and the hope in his eyes nearly undoes me. “You’ve known me a week, Nate. How can you possibly know that?”
He shrugs, squeezing my hand. “I just do. What difference does it make how long we’ve known each other?”
Because it’s crazy, I want to say. Instead, I take the easy way out. “Can’t we just keep things the way they are?” I ask.
I can see the disappointment in his face; it’s an immediate reaction the very second the words are out of my mouth. “What do you mean?”
“Just…” I can’t bring myself to say the words, and I can’t look him in the eye. I shrug and look down at the ground as his hand slips from mine. The air feels colder than it did just a second ago.
“Sex,” he whispers, like it kills him to even say it. Like the word is…unfathomable.
I nod. I can’t speak past the lump in my throat.
“I can’t.” He offers me a sad smile, like he wishes he could do it but it’s just not in his genetic makeup. “Not with you.”
“Not with me?”
He shakes his head. “I need more.”
Tears well up in my eyes and I blink past them as I cross my arms over my chest, trying to keep out the chill. Of course I would find the one guy who turns down sex for love. That’s the story of my pathetic life, and that’s what makes the cynical part of me start running her mouth.