Page 152 of Seale the Deal

The last thing I want is space from Wrenley. I want her beside me on the couch while we watch TV. I want her stealing my hoodies and leaving sewing supplies all over the house. I want her climbing into my bed at night and to make love to her until we fall asleep in each other’s arms. I want more time, not less.

But I also know Walter’s right.

Every time Wrenley looks at me, she’s looking at a future with me in it. It’s tangible, unlike what waits for her in LA. It would be so easy for me to become the safe choice instead of the right choice. So even though it breaks my heart to do it, I have to give her space.

Put a deadline on it, though, Walter says. Whatever you both feel is right.

I’m pretty sure there already is, I say.

Then you both need to meet it ready for whatever choice is best.

I close my eyes and let out a slow breath. Then I stand. Thanks, Walter.

He nods. Anytime.

I head for the door, knowing the drive home is going to be the hardest one I’ve made in a long time. I know exactly what I need to do, and I hate every part of it.

Chapter 32

Wrenley

DAYS LEFT ON VISA: 34

I’m sitting on the couch, pretending to watch TV, but really, I’m staring out the window, waiting for Ruger’s truck to pull into the driveway.

Wren, come on, Remi says beside me. You can’t torture yourself like this.

I shake my head, unable to say anything for fear of breaking down. Again.

The Cultural Center felt like a disaster, and the pressure to say yes to the wedding and yes to Ruger hangs heavily on me. But I also know that wasn’t the point of the deposit. I know he’s saying that however I get to stay in the country, he supports me. If I choose to marry him, everything is all set up. But if I choose to leave, he’ll do his part, smile through the heartbreak, and help me chase my dream.

In some ways, if he’d been selfish and demanded I stay or made me feel guilty for even considering leaving, then I could be angry and point to his behaviour and convince myself that walking away was the right choice.

Instead, he keeps loving me in a way that makes me want to curl up on this couch and cry until I dehydrate.

I hate this, I whisper.

Remi lets out a sigh. I know.

Just then, I see a flash of Ruger’s truck out the window, and I perk up.

He’s home.

I hear the sound of his truck door opening and closing, then the footsteps up to the door. It opens, and he walks in, but when our eyes meet, I have a sinking feeling in my stomach, like something is very wrong.

He looks at Remi and says, Can we have a minute?

I swallow as I look at my best friend.

Yeah, she says. I’ll just go make Wrenley’s bed or something.

She slips out of the living room, leaving Ruger and me alone.

The second she’s gone, silence settles over the room. Ruger doesn’t move to sit beside me or reach for my hand. He just stands there with an expression on his face that looks so pained I half wonder if he hurt himself.

Ruger…

No. He closes his eyes, then opens them. I’m sorry. I just… if I don’t say what I need to say now, then I’ll lose the courage to.