She slowly panned her gaze to me, and I felt my body grow cold.
“You were researching places…” I trailed off.
“For about a month,” she admitted.
“You knew for a fucking month, Chelsea?”
But, her pause told me everything I needed to know.
“How long did you know about that job, Chelsea!?” I exclaimed.
“They contacted me in March. Flynn, I swear to God I tried to find a way to tell you. Every time I researched apartments and every time I choked on how expensive it was going to be to live in Paris. Every single time there was an opening in a conversation I tried to tell you. But I thought-”
I watched her catch herself. I watched her stop her statement, and my mind was running a million times a second.
“Don’t you dare stop your sentence with me, Chelsea. You thought what?”
“Flynn, please,” she whispered.
“You don’t get to control this anymore, Chelsea! I made lunch and was gonna talk to you about how we move forward long distance from this point on! You’re the one that brought up college! Now, talk!”
“You were gonna talk about a long-distance relationship?” she breathed.
“Chelsea August!” I roared.
“I thought you’d try to make me stay!” she shrieked. “I thought that if I told you, that you wouldn’t support me or approve, and you’d ask me to stay with you!”
I felt my entire world ripped from underneath my feet.
“You left me in the middle of the night after graduation. After I laid with you and told you I loved you and that you were the one for me because you thought I wouldn’t support you?”
I could hear my voice rumbling threateningly throughout the house, and I knew my anger was raging out of control. My mind was spinning, and my body felt numb, and for the first time since that morning that I woke up without her, I felt like picking something up and throwing it against the wall.
“Who was the one who encouraged you to pursue fashion?” I asked.
“You,” she whispered.
“Who was the one who fielded your parents when you switched your major from education to fashion?” I asked.
“You,” she choked out.
“Who was the one who encouraged you to send your damn portfolio off to Paris in the first place while you sat there, night after night, crying because you didn’t think you weren’t good enough!?”
“You,” Chelsea sobbed.
“Then why the hell did you think I suddenly wouldn’t have supported you!?” I raged.
“Because I knew if you asked, I would’ve stayed!” she yelled.
Her statement stopped me in my tracks.
“I knew if you asked, or gave me a look, or asked me to postpone it, or even asked to go with me, that I’d do it! I’d do whatever you asked! And I couldn’t risk any of that happening! So, I just fucking left, alright!?”
I felt my chest panting for air, and the room suddenly felt like it was devoid of oxygen. My mind had come to a complete and total halt, and I stood there while I watched Chelsea sob in my kitchen.
But, one statement she made kept ringing inside my head. Like a little mosquito that wouldn’t stop buzzing in my ear.
“What the hell would’ve been so wrong with me goin’ with you?” I asked lowly.