Page 121 of Let the Light Shine Through

“I love you,” I say when her lips stop moving to breathe me in.

Getting the door for her, I don’t miss the way she avoids my eye as she climbs inside or the fact that after two months, she still hasn’t said “I love you” back. I know she does and I thought we were finally moving toward a place where she’d feel comfortable enough to express herself, but something’s still keeping Gia from saying the words.

Your girlfriend doesn’t let fear hold her back…

I’m not so sure about that, and judging by the way Gia reacted to my dad’s comment, I don’t think she is either.

Roz

Voicemail.

Again.

How fucking convenient.

Gia’s been pulling this shit all week. The only time she even answers her phone is to give me some bullshit reason about why she’s so busy.

“I’m on my way out.”

Funny how I’m never invited along anymore.

“My phone died.”

Coincidentally, neither of the two new portable power banks I bought and dropped off at her house have prevented that from happening.

“The shop is slammed.”

That one’s my favorite, considering I’ve helped out at Al’s enough times now that I should have my own apron.

And here I am, once again, listening to the generic-ass voicemail recording, wondering why the fuck my girlfriend wants nothing to do with me all of a sudden.

I knew she was pulling away. I knew it. But was it something I did to cause her to pull away? I’d fix it if I could. And if I couldn’t, I’d try anyway.

But, as usual, Gia takes things into her own hands, leaving me in the dark, alone and grasping at straws.

Fuck.

What if it’s not fixable though? Did something happen at the dermatologist? Would she tell me even if it did?

No, she wouldn’t. She’d do exactly what she’s doing now—clam up on all the bad, so only the good shows, except in this case, Gia’s not showing me anything. She’s fucking running.

Snatching up my keys and wallet, I pound down my staircase, my heartbeat matching my heavy steps. I didn’t earn eight gold medals for nothing. I’m light on my feet, barge every jump I ever encounter, and I’d never even considered bailing midway through a run, no matter how bad my chances look.

Gia can try to dodge me, but I’m a motherfucking snowboarder. I’ll catch her.

It’s keeping her that’s gonna be the hard part.

Hopping down from my truck, I hesitate with a hand on my door.

What the fuck?

Gia and Rowdy are loading the back of her vintage truck with her Raptor. Technically, Rowdy’s loading it while Gia keeps trying to help, but he waves her off, shaking his head each time she reaches out.

My muscles tense to the point of numbness, and I approach the two, staring Rowdy down when he makes the mistake of locking eyes with me.

He knows. He knows what’s going on, and he’s been keeping it from me, too. Rowdy and I aren’t what I would call friends, but we talk. We talk enough that he could’ve reached out at any time to tell me what’s going on with my own girlfriend.

She is still my girlfriend, isn’t she?