“Maybe because you’re in a drunken fog.” She huffed.
“Oh no, I’m crystal clear on things between us. You’re the one with the unanswered
questions. So go soul search, weigh things out. Do whatever it is you need to do. But know this.
When you come back to me, it’ll be for good. I’m not going through this again. It’s too fucking hard.”
“You think this is easy for me?”
“I don’t know,” he muttered.
“It’s not.”
“So, why are you doing it?” He snapped.
“Because I have to. Look, I was calling to set up a time to get together for lunch. I have my break in thirty minutes.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. When you know what you want, then you can contact me.”
“This is bullshit. I do something you don’t like, so you what? Punish me?”
“No, it’s called self-preservation, Lark. You can’t expect me to sit here and pretend like everything is fine when you have one foot out the door. It’ll make shit harder in the end. Your feelings aren’t the only ones at risk here.”
“I never said they were.”
He sighed. She didn’t understand how much he’d bent over backward for her. Opening
himself up and offering her what was left of his battered heart had been nothing short of a Herculean feat. One she’d just spat on…in his mind. “This is hard for me, Lark. Okay. I understand why you’d hesitate. But we’ve been doing this thing for two months, so for me, this is out of the blue. Respect my feelings the way you want me to respect yours.”
“I do.”
“Right,” he sneered. She had him by the short and curlies. All he could do was sit around and wait, but he’d be damned, if he turned into a puppy for her. “I have some club business to take care of. I’ve been putting it off to stay at home, but now if you need anything, you have my number.” He disconnected, ignoring the twinge of guilt that ran through him. If he weren't careful, she could break him. He couldn’t afford to let that happen.
Chapter Ten
“What the fuck are you doing?”
The venom in the voice made her blood run cold. Lark glanced up and at met the fury filled hazel gaze of Symone. “Excuse me,” she whispered.
“No, you’re not excused. You’re tearing Pan apart for what? If you can’t handle this life, tell him. But for god’s sake, don’t keep him in limbo like this,” she spat.
“I’m not. I told him I needed time.”
“How much time do you need? Cause it’s been damn near a month and the man seems to be
on a mission to drink himself to death.”
Lark closed her eyes. “I knew he might do this.”
“So why?” Symone demanded.
Her lower lip trembled. “B-because I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if what we have is real, or if I can handle everything that comes with him. I know I’m hurting him. I never wanted to do that. But it’d be worse if I did this in a few years.”
“Nothing is promised! Why torture yourselves over what ifs?”
She shook her head. “It’s not that simple.”
“Bullshit,” Symone retorted. “You need to decide something fast, or what happens to Pan will be on your head.”