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“I did.” He chuckles softly. “Enough to completely change my mind.”
I glance up at him, stunned. “What?”
“One look at you, and I couldn’t do it. Maybe this is cheesy, but I felt this tug at my chest just from looking at you.” He puts a hand over his heart, as if indicating the sensation. “It was shitty and cowardly of me to ignore you for as long as I did, but I knew meeting you face-to-face would test all my resolve. Not just test.” He shakes his head. “Obliterate. And it did.”
My eyes sting. I blink the tears back furiously, but they spill over anyway.
“I’m sorry I hurt you.” His hands are clenched on the steering wheel, like it’s taking everything he has not to comfort me with his touch. “And I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t show it. I want the expectation, dammit. I want you to demand more from me, and I want you to believe I can give it to you.”
“Theo, don’t—”
“I used to think Alice was the only person for me, or that I wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. I thought I knew what real love was, and that no one else could measure up to how I felt about Alice.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t know a goddamn thing. Not before you. And all I had to do was be open to taking a chance.”
He unlocks the passenger door from his side, turning forward in his seat without another word. It’s the dismissal I’ve been waiting for, but I don’t like anything about it. Finally, I get out of his car. When I watch him drive away, I’m more confused than ever.
Twenty-Seven
There aren’t enough empanadas in the world for this kind of hurt.
I’ve torn through five of them just this morning, but somehow, I feel even worse. As soon as I woke up, last night’s events crashed over me like a tidal wave, choking the breath from me all over again.
He almost ended everything. I keep replaying that night when Theo visited the library during book club over and over. The surprise that bloomed in my chest when I caught sight of him. The dread that seeped into my veins when I read his text.
He’d already made up his mind to end things. My heart races just imagining how different everything would be if he had. I’d mark yet another person who walked out of my life without a second thought, but I’d get over it. I always did, didn’t I?
But I did get a second thought. Without even trying, I changed Theo’s mind.
What am I supposed to make of that?
I let out a groan and bite into a bright pink concha because I ran out of empanadas. What did I do on my weekends before Theo came into my life? I walk into my home library and scan the bottoms of every bookshelf, where I store all my unread books. Grabbing a small stack, I return to the couch in the living room and read a chapter in each book hoping one hooks me. When none do, I return to the shelves again to repeat the process.
I call Angela when nothing sticks, but when I realize I’ll have to tell her about last night, I hang up before she has the chance to answer. I’ll recount the tale to her tomorrow when she drags me out for our standing Sunday walk. I’m already dreading what she’ll say to me.
I’m still grappling with what to do an hour later, when there’s a knock on my door. I freeze, dreading who could be on the other side. If it’s Angela, I suppose I’ll have to buck up and confess last night’s horrendous events. If it’s Ben, I’ll close the door in his face before he can utter a single word. But if it’s Theo…
I sneak a peek through the peephole, and chills run down my back. When I open the door, Theo’s standing before me, his hair and clothes as disheveled as my soul feels. Dark circles ring his eyes, like he hasn’t slept in days even though only a night has passed.
“I’m not staying for long, I just wanted to give you this,” he says before handing me a key. My brows furrow as I look down at it. I immediately recognize the shape—it’s a key to the lecture hall of the library. “We never got to the surprise part of the date. It’s waiting for you in a box under the table.”
“You can return it, if you want,” I tell him, my voice hollow. I’d completely forgotten about the surprise he’d mentioned last night. “I can pick it up on Monday and—”
“I don’t want it back,” he tells me, eyes imploring. “It’s yours, okay? It doesn’t matter what happens with us. I just want you to have it.”
I’m not sure what to say to that, so I don’t say anything. When he turns to leave, it takes everything I have to hold myself back from asking him to stay. But we can’t go back to the way things were. Not when he’s laid himself bare, and I’m holding on to all my fear. Not when everything about our relationship has changed. Just as I’m about to shut the door, he turns back around, something like determination shining in his eyes.
“This isn’t over for me,” he says, stunning me all over again. I open my mouth to speak, but he doesn’t give me the chance. “I’m still in this, Marcela. You might not believe we have a chance, but I do. I wish I could prove that to you with more than words. I wish I knew how to make you trust us.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I keep my mouth shut.
“If you don’t want to be with me anymore, I won’t force you,” he says. “I meant what I said to you weeks ago when all this first started. I’m rooting for you to get the happily ever after you deserve, even if it’s not with me.” He meets my eyes across the hallway. “Tell me what you need from me.”
“I—” I take in a breath. Let it out slowly as he steps closer. “I don’t know.”
He shuts his eyes, his expression pained. “Does that mean this is over?”
Over. That was an inevitability, wasn’t it? But I hate that the onus is on me. I hate that I can’t meet him where he is, that I can’t return his trust. That I can’t trust how happy he makes me without waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Can you try?” His hand is in my hair, beckoning me closer. “Is there any part of you that wants to try?”
