CHAPTER NINETEEN #3
Wes did not answer. The silence stretched until it answered for him. Bee waited another moment before looking away.
“Exactly,” she whispered.
Wes dropped his gaze. He wanted to ask her to sit beside him. He wanted her hand back inside his. Every part of him that wanted comfort also believed he did not deserve it.
“Maybe we need space,” Wes said.
Bee swallowed. “Is that what you want?”
“I don't know,” he admitted.
“That isn't good enough,” she said.
Wes looked at her. Frustration rose with the panic beginning to tighten his chest. “What do you want me to say?”
“The truth,” Bee replied as her voice cracked.
“I don't know what the truth is right now,” he said.
The answer was more honest than anything else he had given her. Bee blinked rapidly while tears filled her eyes. She wiped beneath one before it could fall. The pain had already reached her face.
“Then I'll make it easy for you,” she said.
Wes looked up. Bee no longer seemed to be waiting for him to find the right words. Her voice remained low when she continued.
“I am not going to keep showing up so you can punish yourself through me,” Bee said.
“That isn't what I'm doing,” Wes replied quickly.
“It is,” she said.
“Bee,” he pleaded.
“No,” Bee replied as she shook her head. “You want space? You have it.”
Wes's chest tightened. “That isn't what I said.”
“You said maybe we need space,” she reminded him.
“I said maybe,” he replied.
“I'm saying yes,” Bee said.
“So that's it?” he asked.
Bee looked wounded by the question. “You're the one who brought it up.”
“I didn't say I wanted to break up,” Wes replied. His words came faster as he tried to catch up with what was happening.
Bee's expression softened into something sadder. “What exactly are we doing right now, Wes?”
“That's what I thought,” she said.
Wes wanted to go to her. His body would not let him forget the injuries holding him back. His pride kept him in place even after the rest of him begged to move.
Bee reached for the paper bag she had brought. She hesitated with her hand against it before leaving it on the table. The small act hurt because she was still taking care of him while he gave her every reason to stop.
“Keep the food,” Bee said. “Your mom will make sure you eat it.”
“Bee,” Wes said.
She looked at him and waited. Wes opened his mouth. He wanted to stop her and undo everything he had said. Every apology sounded too small before it reached his lips.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered.
Bee closed her eyes as though the word had hurt her. When she looked at him again, the sadness remained. “I really hate that word from you right now.”
Wes lowered his gaze while Bee walked toward the door. She rested her hand on the handle and stood there for a moment. When she turned back, the tears on her face made it impossible for him to pretend he had not caused them.
“For what it's worth, I never needed you to have a truck,” Bee said. “I never needed you to be working every second. I didn't need you to fix things or take care of me. I only needed you.”
Wes looked at her without speaking. His throat tightened. Bee held his gaze because she needed him to hear what might be the last thing she gave him.
“I just wanted you,” she said. “Apparently that wasn't enough.”
“That isn't fair,” Wes said quietly.
“Neither is deciding I'm better off without you,” she replied.
“I didn't decide that,” he said quickly.
Bee's face held no anger now. Only certainty remained. “You just did.”
She opened the door and stepped onto the porch. Wes moved after her without thinking. Pain tore across his ribs and stopped him before he reached the doorway.
Bee turned when he stumbled. Concern crossed her face as she took half a step toward him. Her hand lifted as if she might steady him.
Then she stopped herself. Wes watched her fingers close into her palm. She remembered why she was leaving and lowered her hand. The sight hurt more than the pain in his ribs.
“Bee, wait,” Wes said.
She shook her head. “No. You wanted space.”
“I don't want you to leave angry,” he replied.
Bee gave him a broken smile. “You keep asking me not to leave angry after giving me every reason to be.”
Wes had no answer. Bee stepped off the porch and walked away. The door remained open between them until he could no longer see her.
Wes listened to her footsteps until they disappeared. The house became quiet again. There was nothing peaceful in it. His phone buzzed from the couch while he stared at the empty doorway.
A few minutes earlier, thousands of strangers had watched him smile and tell them he was doing fine. His truck was still gone. His job still waited for a version of him who could work again.
The unopened bag of food remained on the coffee table. Bee had brought it because she cared enough to come back after he hurt her the first time. Wes had taken that care and given her another reason to leave.
Wes stared at the empty doorway, wanting to call Bee back but having no idea what he would say after telling her he needed space and then watching her leave. His phone buzzed beside him on the couch, but he ignored it.