Chapter 46
Griffin
Something’s wrong. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t know if I want to. All I know is that as we sit silently on the basement couch, it’s not a comfortable silence–it’s heavy and full of dread, like when someone is walking toward you and you just know they’re bringing bad news with them.
“Hey Griffin?” she whispers softly, a hint of anxiety in her voice that makes my stomach drop.
“Yeah, darlin’?” I ask, feeling as anxious as she sounds.
“I need to tell you something.”
My mind is reeling. One of the things I love most about her is when she blurts out what she’s thinking without preamble–if she feels like she has to preface a conversation, it can’t be good.
“Okay,” I say hesitantly. “Tell me something.”
With a sigh, she moves from where she was leaned into my side, turning on the couch to face me.
“I’m not going back to campus in the fall.”
Wait, is this a good conversation? Is she staying here with me?
“I got offered an internship,” she continues. “In Boston.”
“Boston,” I repeat.
“Yeah, Boston,” she says, gaze dropping to her hands. “I leave at the end of August.”
“But that’s in two weeks,” I say, panic rising in my throat like bile. “Why didn’t you say something?”
She looks back up at me, tears welling at her waterline.
“Because I wanted to keep you for as long as I could.”
Is that what she’s worried about?
“Darlin’,” I say with a relieved chuckle, scraping my hand down my face. “You can keep me and have Boston. I’m not going anywhere.”
The tightness in my chest immediately loosens. As much as I hate the thought of my girl being on the other side of the country, I love her bigger than any distance between us.
My smile falters at the pain-stricken look on her face as she shakes her head no.
“No I can’t,” she says. “Because I need to do this on my own. I need to find myself, to belong to myself. I can’t do that if my heart belongs to you.”
Her voice breaks on the last word, right along with my heart. There’s no way this is happening again. There is no way she just gave me the happiest summer of my life again, just to leave me in the dust again. The ache in my chest turns to rage, and I jump to my feet.
“So let me get this straight,” I say, fighting to keep my voice steady even as my hands shake with anger. “You knew about this all summer. You knew you were leaving Texas. And you knew you were going to leave me. And you did it anyway?”
“Griffin, I–”
“I’m not done,” I say sharply. “I barely survived the last time you left me, Eleanor. You’ve gotta know that. Why would you do this again?”
She shrinks back at the rise in volume in my voice, and I should feel bad, but Goddamn it I don’t.
I’m pissed. I’m more than pissed. This wasn’t fear or confusion–this was on purpose.
This was a conscious decision to keep me out of the loop for the second time.
This was betrayal. For the first time since I met her, I look at her and the rose colored glasses are cracked.
“I didn’t mean to,” she pleads, tears beginning to spill onto her cheeks. “I thought I could make this work, that I could be okay with the way things are. But I can’t.”
“And what way is that, Eleanor?”
“Nothing has changed, Griffin,” she says miserably. “You still don’t want to go, and I still don’t want to stay. We’re in the exact same spot we were two years ago.”
“No actually, we aren’t.” I’m fully yelling now. My voice doesn’t sound like my own anymore–and after this, I don’t think it’ll ever sound the same again. “You are in the same spot again.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but the words are tumbling from my mouth and I couldn’t stop them even if I wanted to.
“You, once again, have made a decision without talking to me about it. You, once again, are running away from your problems instead of dealing with them.” My voice is starting to go hoarse, but I’m not done. “You didn’t stop to think about what I want? How I might feel about this?”
“Of course I thought about you,” she says, eyes pleading with me to listen to her. “Of course I care how you feel.”
“Did you consider that if I knew you were leaving again, I wouldn’t have wanted this?
You didn’t give me a fair shot. You used me up again, and now you’re leaving me behind again.
” My voice falters, the anger giving way, not to sadness, but a bitterness that swallows me whole.
I sink back on to the couch, elbows resting on my knees and dropping my head into my hands.
“Maybe you’re right,” I say dejectedly.
“I really think I am,” she murmurs softly, reaching over to touch my arm. “I think this is better for both of us.”
“No, not about that,” I say, yanking my arm from her and looking at her with more contempt than I’ve ever felt for anyone.
Her eyes go wide, face draining of color as the meanest words I’ve ever said leave my lips. “Maybe you are selfish, and awful, and a coward,” I bite out, words laced with venom. “Maybe you don’t deserve me, Eleanor Turner.”
She chokes out a sob, and we both stand, knowing this conversation is over. There’s no point in dragging it out–nothing is going to change her mind, and I don’t have anything left to give. “I know I sure as hell didn’t deserve this.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whimpers. “I didn’t mean to do this again. I really do love–”
“Don’t you dare,” I cut her off, my tone dangerous enough that she takes a step back from me. “Not now, not ever again.”
She’s sobbing freely now, and in spite of everything, all I want is to wrap her in my arms and kiss every last tear away.
But I don’t. I let the anger keep my feet firmly planted as she goes up the stairs.
I stand frozen in silence until I hear the front door slam behind her–walking out of my house, and out of my life, just like she did two years ago.
This time, I don’t fight it.