I catch my breath, not daring to move. Perhaps I'm imagining all this, though the coldness around my fingers, marking the spot from where his hand had been, is proof that I'm not. How many seconds have passed since I spoke? It can't be that many. I can wait a little longer. But the longer I wait, the only thing that seems to happen is that he grows stiffer. I roll away from him, pushing myself on my knees and fitting the bed-sheet around me.
The sight of him, pale and wide-eyed, lying frozen on his pillow, brings a violent urge to vomit.
"I just said I love you." I choke. "Don't you have anything to say to that?"
Part of me dreads that he'll say the same thing he said back at the hospital. I can't do this. You and me. But if he will, it's best he does it now. Quick and cold. "James, say something, for the love of God," I challenge, raising my voice.
My voice seems to snap him out of whatever he was lost in. He pushes himself to a sitting position, leaning against the headboard. Every muscle in his body is contorted as he puts his shirt and boxers on.
He opens and closes his mouth a few times, then says, "I'm sorry. I—I can't say those words back to you."
"No shit. You look like you'd like nothing better than to bolt out the door this very second."
"No, no, Serena. I'm not gonna bolt. I'm not going anywhere this time. I just… " He runs his hand through his hair, biting his lip.
I swallow. "You just don't love me, I get it."
He launches forward across the bed to me, but I leap away before he can touch me.
"No, this has nothing to do with my feelings for you. I just can't tell you the words. But this doesn't mean I don't feel like that, I swear." His eyes are begging, his lower lip trembles.
But all I can do is snort. "You tell me that you want to spend forever with me, but you can't say you love me. You see how I might have trouble believing you?"
"Don't take it like this, Serena. I… I only said these words to one person before."
"So did I." I fold my hands across my chest, securing the sheet tighter around me.
"No, it's different… it's not j-j-just…" He shakes his head vigorously, as if hoping the gesture would make his incoherent stuttering disappear. "I can't say… I can't even think of those words without bringing back memories that I've fought very, very hard to forget."
I take a step back, all my limbs like jelly. "So what will you do every time you come across something in our relationship that reminds you of Lara, James?" His head jerks back, as if I’d just swung a whip before him. "How long will it be before you decide one of those things is just too much for you, and you'll leave me? Again."
"I will never leave you, Serena. This won't happen."
Every nerve, every fiber in my body wants to believe him. It would be so easy to believe him. If he wasn't shaking the way he is. If his eyes weren't brimming with doubt.
At his own words.
Tears start forming behind my eyelids. Sudden and burning. I grit my teeth, digging my nails in my palm. I will not cry in front of him.
"I just…" I bite my lip. My voice is so weak; it gives away how much I'm crumbling on the inside even without any tears. I take a deep breath, hoping it'll help. To no avail. "You're so unpredictable, James. One minute you are loving and warm, and then you turn into a fucking stranger. All because of something I say. I can't live like this. Always in fear that something I say or do will set you off."
I can't live knowing you don't love me. That perhaps you never will.
James seats himself on the edge of the bed with his shoulders slumped. He's not looking at me anymore. "There are parts of me I haven't shared with anyone, Serena. I'm—"
"Except Natalie, isn't it?" I spat.
He snaps his head up. His eyes are slitted. "Why are you bringing up Natalie again?"
"You're not a stranger to her." My voice is suddenly strong. "You've shared some of those… parts… with her. More than you're willing to share with me, anyway."
Has he ever told you he loved you? the lark asked me. How well she had known that he hadn't. How true her words always turn out to be. She told me once that James can make me feel like I'm the center of his world one day, then walk out on me the next.
And that's exactly what has happened.
I don't intend to stick around and wait for her second prediction to come true: that James will never love me.
"Don't make this about Natalie, please." He stands up, wobbling in my direction. I wobble backward, stumbling on the sheet in my hurry to get away from him. I pull the sheet tighter around me just as I hit the damned glass door. There's nowhere to escape now. But I don't have to. One glance reveals that James stopped dead in his steps.