Chapter 36 #2
Her head snaps up. “That's not the point. The point is you will always have options. Why would you stay with me? And besides, I don’t want to be that controlling girlfriend who makes you cut people off. That’s not—”
“Girlfriend?” I repeat, unable to keep the smile from my face.
She flushes. “You know what I mean.”
“Do I? Because from my point of view, I confessed that I was falling for you, I invited you to meet my family, I do everything I fucking can for you and you’ve not given me one crumb to show me that you feel the same way.”
The words hang in the air between us. Her expression hardens.
“That’s not fair,” she says, voice low.
“Isn’t it? You’ve been pulling away for a week over some Instagram messages, but you couldn’t even talk to me about it. Instead, you just disappeared.”
“Because I’m trying to protect myself!” Her voice rises. “You have no idea what it’s like to constantly wonder if you’re just another conquest, another girl who fell for your bullshit charm!”
I feel like she’s slapped me. “Is that what you think this is? Some game?”
“I think you’re used to getting what you want. I think you’re used to girls falling at your feet. And I think when the chase is over, you’ll get bored and move on to the next challenge.”
“Fuck that,” I snap, anger rising. “You don’t get to tell me what I feel. You don’t get to decide my intentions for me.”
I run a hand through my hair, frustration boiling over. “And you can’t just walk away without explanation, Delilah. You can’t just ghost me when things get real. Do you have any idea what that does to someone?”
Her eyes widen slightly, like she’s surprised by the raw edge in my voice.
“You disappear for like a week with no explanation. No texts, no calls. Then you show up acting like nothing happened?” I’m pacing now, unable to stay still with this much tension coursing through me.
“I’ve been careful with you—so fucking careful.
Respecting your boundaries, giving you space, trying not to push too hard. And you still keep me at arm’s length.”
My voice drops, the anger giving way to something more honest, more vulnerable. “You know what it’s like to have someone walk out? To have them just… vanish? Because I do. I've lived my whole life waiting for people to leave, and I won't—I can't—go through that again.”
“Then why don't you tell me!" she shouts. “Tell me why the guy who usually hooks up with a different girl every weekend suddenly wants something real with me!”
“Because you're different!” I'm practically yelling now. “Because I can't stop thinking about you even when you drive me fucking crazy! Because you see through all my bullshit and call me on it! Because you make me want to be better!”
Her face is flushed, eyes bright with unshed tears. “Then why didn't you shut Brianna down? If I'm so special, why leave the door open? Why say maybe, Troy?”
“I didn't think it mattered! I didn't even register it as flirting! I don't care about Brianna or anyone else—I care about you!”
“But you'll still have all these options,” she says, quieter now. “All these girls sending you messages, throwing themselves at you. And one day, one of them will catch you at the right moment, when things are hard or boring or—”
“That's what you think of me?” I cut in, voice dangerously soft. “That I'd throw away everything we've built for some random hookup?”
“I think everyone moves on,” she says, and the resignation in her voice hurts more than her anger. “It's just a matter of time.”
I sit back, something cold settling in my chest. “You've already backed away. Decided this isn't going to work. You've already decided I'm going to hurt you.”
She doesn't deny it, which tells me everything.
“So what was the point of any of this?” I gesture between us. “If you were never going to let yourself trust me?”
“I wanted to,” she whispers. “I tried.”
“Not hard enough,” I say, and I know as soon as the words leave my mouth that they cut deep.
Her eyes flash. “You have no idea how hard I've tried. How much it takes for me to let anyone in at all.”
“And yet here we are,” I say, standing up. “With you pulling away over some meaningless messages because it's easier than admitting you're scared.”
“And you’re making it all about you,” she fires back. “Poor Troy, trying so hard, giving so much. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm not ready for this? That maybe I can't be what you want me to be?”
“I never asked you to be anything but yourself,” I say, frustration building. “I just asked you to try. To trust me a little.”
“Trust is earned,” she says coldly.
“And what have I done to lose it?” I demand. “What have I actually done wrong here, Delilah? Not shut down some random DMs? Not read your mind about what was bothering you?”
She looks away, arms crossed tight like she's holding herself together.
“You know what? I'm done,” I say, grabbing my jacket. “I'm done trying to prove myself to someone who's already decided I'm not worth it.”
“Troy—”
“No. I'm tired of trying to make everyone else happy. I've done that my whole life. With my mom, with Tara, with everyone. And I'm fucking exhausted.” My voice cracks slightly. “I haven't done anything wrong here.”
She stands too, eyes flashing. “So this is it? One fight and you walk away? Great job proving you're different.”
The accusation stings, but I'm too angry to care. “You're the one who walked away first. A week ago. I just didn't realize it until now, but you shut me out before I could even talk to you about it.”
We stare at each other, the air crackling with hurt and anger.
“You know what? We can probably finish the project separately from now on,” I say, each word carefully controlled. “You clearly can't trust me, and I'm done trying to prove myself.”
“Fine,” she says, chin lifted in defiance, but I can see the pain beneath it. “That's probably for the best.”
I shake my head. “We're like a fucking self-fulfilling prophecy.”
I run a hand through my hair, frustration pulsing through me. “Here I am, becoming exactly the guy you think I am. And there you are, proving everything I said about you keeping people at arm's length.”
Her eyes flash, but I see the flicker of recognition there too.
“Congratulations, Greer. You win.”
“This isn't about winning,” she says quietly.
“No," I agree. "It's about being right. And we both get to be right. Hooray for us.”
I turn to go, then pause at the door. “Bye, Delilah.”
I don't wait for her response. I just walk away.