Not Broken: The Happily Ever After(45)

“I just need some time.” My voice sounded small. I hated disappointing him, hurting him.

“Time for what? To better fortify that wall around your heart? To figure out a way to deal with a relationship you clearly don’t want? What good does that do either of us? I told you, unlike him, I won’t force you to stay in a relationship you don’t want, regardless of what you seem to think.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, and let out slow controlled breaths. Malcolm’s words sliced through me; the accusations and anger seared into my soul. “I’m sorry.” It was the only thing I could say. I knew I’d make a mess of things, and I wasn’t wrong.

My hand shook as I brought the beer to my lips, only to be reminded I’d already finished it. Malcolm walked over and took the bottle.

I stopped twirling the ring around my finger to take the new one that appeared in front of my face. I looked up at him. A sad smile marred his normally playful demeanor. He reached out and ran his thumb across my cheek.

“It’s not your fault. I should have known better.” He walked away, and retook his seat on the sofa.

“What do you mean? You should have known better how?”

He took a drink from his own new bottle; his eyes remained glued to mine. “You weren’t ready. If I had really paid attention, I would have realized that. I don’t know that you ever will be.”

His words weren’t meant with malice, that I could tell. Still, they managed to cut deeper into the open wounds of my heart. “Why...why would you say that?”

He took another drink, prolonging my agony, as I waited to hear what he had to say.

“I watched you last night, and what I saw amazed me. I mean, it should have been obvious, all things considered, but I guess I’d only seen what I wanted to see. Or rather, what you’d showed everyone.”

My heart rate increased. My hands tightened around the cold bottle in an attempt to keep them from shaking. Nothing could be done about my bouncing leg; it had a mind of its own.

I needed to move around.

I needed to field off the feeling of being caged in, like when I was with Dr. Carr and she started down a path I didn’t want to go. I headed into the kitchen, and sat my beer down on the island, then leaned against it for support.

I didn’t hear him get off the couch, but I watched as one of Malcolm’s hands covered mine. His lips pressed lightly to the side of my head.

“I don’t want to upset you, and I sure as hell don’t want to send you into another attack. Seeing you break down like that...you have a real knack for shaving years off my life.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood just a little.

“I love you, Ginger. I do, with every fiber of my being...but you aren’t ready for me to. You’re hanging on to the past, him, whatever as some sort of strange security blanket. Everything you’ve done, or better yet, not done these last two years have proven that.”

I wanted to protest, to tell him he was wrong, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I was tired. Tired of pretending I was something I wasn’t. Silent tears flowed freely. Malcolm’s other hand came up to caress my face and wipe them away.

“I don’t know why you won’t let go, and I’m not gonna lie, the fact that you hang on, that you continue to live in the past, for whatever reason, pisses me off.” He paused, and let out a loud sigh. “But me being angry about the situation doesn’t do anything. You won’t let me in. I’m here for you. I love you, but none of that matters because you...won’t…let...me…in.” He gave my hand a light squeeze before moving away. He walked around the island, putting an actual barrier between us. Fitting really when I thought about it, I’d had an invisible one between us since day one.

I slid my beer bottle back and forth along the granite. The emotions I expected to feel—happiness, relief—were absent from the myriad of other feelings I had. “I want to.”

“What?”

“I want...I have let you in.”

“No, you haven’t. I thought you had, but you haven’t. It’s all been a lie. Just like you telling me you wanted to be with me, everything that I thought about…” He paused.

The struggle to keep his emotions in check radiated off him. The clench of his jaw. The exaggerated breathing. The sadness in his eyes. All clear signs of the damage I’d caused.

Dr. Carr had been right; my not being honest about how I felt didn’t do either of us any favors. I tried to think of something, anything to say, but my mind was empty. New tears leaked from my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Fuck, Ginger, I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to be fucking honest with me. Talk to me. That’s all I want. I’m here. I’ve been here trying, yet you insist on keeping me at arm’s length. I shouldn’t feel like I’m competing with a dead man, with that fucking man! It’s almost as if you won’t consider any other options because some messed up part of you is still in love with that bastard!”

Lump in my throat. I swallowed, but it remained. I massaged my chest. It hurt. I needed air. I stumbled away from the island back to the couch. “I...I need to go.”

Malcolm’s arms wrapped around me.

“Let go!” I fought against him. He released me.