Page 33 of Wait for Him

“Then why did you run away from me?”

“I didn't run away from you.”

“You practically fucking sprinted.”

“Because I walked in on you having sex, Jackson! What was I supposed to do? Pull up a chair?”

“That's not what I'm asking and you know it.”

Fuck him.

Fuck him for knowing me well enough to hear what I'm not saying.

I cross my arms tightly over my chest because I'm vibrating now and I need something to hold me together.

“Why would I be upset? It's your life. You can do whatever you want.”

I'm trying for nonchalant. I sound fucking insane.

Jackson studies me for a long moment, and his expression starts to change. Not understanding exactly, but the beginning of it, enough that my pulse kicks harder.

“Rose, what's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Stop saying nothing.”

“Then stop fucking asking me!”

“I'm asking because you're standing here crying over me fucking someone else!”

“Marcus, just fuck off!” I scream with my fists clamped at my sides.

Silence.

Jackson looks like I've slapped him.

His mouth opens slightly, his head tilting as hurt moves across his face while he tries to figure out where the hell that came from.

I know exactly where it came from.

Marcus is distance.

Marcus is the stranger Bennet introduced me to at graduation. Marcus is twenty years old and completely inappropriate. Marcus isn't the man who remembers I get cold and brings a hoodie for me. He isn't the person I look for when I enter a room. He isn't the one whose hand I want on my face when I'm sick or whose body I've claimed so thoroughly in my own mind that seeing someone else touch it has reduced me to tears in a fucking bathroom.

Jackson is dangerous to my mental health at this moment. So I called him Marcus.

And judging by his face, he knows it.

“I...” My voice is quieter when I try again. “I just need a minute, okay?”

He stares at me for another second, but I can't give him anything else. I've kept him safely tucked away in the friend zone for years, accepting every bit of his affection while refusing to examine my own too closely, and whatever I'm doing to him right now isn't fair. He hasn't done anything wrong. If anything, he's finally doing exactly what I've spent years telling myself I wanted him to do.

Live his life.

Find someone else.

Be happy without me.