40. Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty
Jordan
“For what?” he whispers and my pulse hammers.
“For—just—”
The words stick to my tongue, thick and life changing.
What am I asking for?
Could it be that simple?
His tug on my grip has me grasping at air and chasing after him when he walks away from me.
What if?
I shake my head and match his stride.
He speeds up.
“Mac.”
He spins on me, stiff-arming me with his bandaged palm to the center of my chest, his eyes glassy.
“No.”
I recoil. “No?”
He throws his hands up, his sight going skyward.
For a beat, he’s quiet, though I can see his mind running. He’s still, though I can see the tremble of his frame.
But when his hardened sight lands on me, I’m struck frozen at its intensity.
“If you can’t tell me why …” He shakes his head, his nostrils flaring. “Just, no, Jordan.”
Him using my real name unfurls something deep inside me and I know that I won’t ever be able to let it go until I know .
“You’ve never asked me why before,” I mutter.
His jaw ticks and it’s like the damn breaks, the walls slowly chipping away until it all comes flowing in waves of shit.
“Because!” he shouts. “I’ve never had to pretend so fucking hard with you. Never felt like I needed to protect myself from you. The one fucking person I thought was in it for me. No matter what.”
“But I am—”
“ You didn’t choose me ,” he all but screams with wild eyes and a pumping chest.
I rock back.
“You never chose me . You chose your fucking job and your goddamn pride and your fucking normal .”
A piece of me breaks when a tear crests his lashes, streaking down his splotched cheek.
“That’s what you think?”
His chin juts out, his shoulders squared. “You followed me through fucking hell and back.” Another tear. “Until you didn’t .”
I swallow against the ball of guilt growing larger with each truth he slaps in my face.
He’s right .
I left his detail for what I thought was his benefit. I didn’t go to Europe with the band because I thought it was what was best for him . That I was his problem. That I was in my client’s way.
Wasn’t I?
My already sinking stomach settles into the darkening pit of my gut.
“Mac.”
“So, tell me.” He sniffs, his jaw tight. “If you didn’t choose me, then why the fuck would I keep choosing you?”