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I could tell just from his resigned expression and his hand aggressively rubbing his shoulder. He was going to withdraw, but I wanted him to prove me wrong badly.
I know he could. I know how much work he had put into becoming better. I know he wouldn’t hide behind the wall he’d built up so high between us. At least I hoped he wouldn’t.
So Alexander, please prove me wrong.
“Naomi.” He sighed, and something warm slid down my cheeks. Touching my face, I already knew what the conclusion would be.
No matter how much I wiped my tears, they wouldn’t stop. Fuck, this is annoying.
So fucking annoying! FUCK!
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he muttered, and right then, my heart shattered again, but this time it was more painful than when it was with Jason. This time, the pain almost compared to when my mother passed away. “Naomi—” he whispered as he took cautious steps toward me, but I shook my head, staring at him.
The tears just won’t stop! The lump that had grown in my throat painfully finally let out a sob. I wanted to scream. I wanted to beg him to say something different.
But how could I force him to do something he didn’t feel? Wouldn’t I be just as unfair?
“Please let me comfort you,” he said in a quiet voice, and I wiped my nose.
“No.” I croaked out. “I think you’ve done enough.” I exhaled a long breath as I put my hand on my chest, trying to get my heart to calm down.
It’s enough now.
“Nao—” he breathed, reaching out his hand.
“I guess this marks the end of us.” I interrupted him, nodding. “I’ll see you at work, Mr. Harris.” I smiled as I turned on the heel of my feet.
Alexander didn’t bother calling out my name. He sat on the couch quietly as I quickly packed up whatever I could find of my stuff.
I couldn’t stay here anymore. It was so suffocating.
Taking off his clothes, I slipped into my dress and wore my shoes, trying my best to rush out of his apartment.
I’m tired.
Chapter 22
Alexander
All I said was that I didn’t know what to say! What was so wrong with that? How was I wrong to say I don’t know? When did we even get to that stage?
At one point yesterday, we were having an easy Saturday watching a movie together—sure, I noticed she was deep in thought, but I wrote that off as her womanly days coming, as she had told me earlier, and then suddenly we were screaming at each other.
All because I offered her some ice cream. Daniel had fooled me into believing that ice cream was the solution to all problems women came up with on their days. It was a lie; it made her angrier, and I had never seen her so frustrated.
Sure, I did have my days of pissing her off, but yesterday I unlocked a new level of frustration, and she left. Here I was still on the same couch waiting for her to come back and say she didn’t mean to leave.
She didn’t have to leave. Why did she leave? How could she leave?
Letting go of my bottom lip as I tasted the metallic blood, I got up, silently cursing myself for chewing on it so much. I opened the medicine cabinet and realized her skincare products weren’t there. Slamming the cabinet closed, I quickly searched each and every cabinet that had her items, only to find them empty.
She’s really gone.
Lying down on my bed, an annoyed groan left my lips as I stared at the ceiling. All of this probably started when I let her sleep on her own in my bed. What was I thinking that night? Why did I distance myself from her on that day? And I didn’t even apologize for it yesterday.
I expected her to be okay without me, and obviously she wasn’t. Letting her sleep alone gave her enough time to overthink everything.
I fucked up, big time!
