“Scary? When we’re working on the roof terrace, eating dinner alone together or with our friends, enjoying a drink, making breakfast, having sex—does any of that feel scary?” His blunt challenge made her feel like a coward.
“No, but—”
“Is that what you’re thinking of when we’re together? You’re lying there wondering when we’re going to break up?” His voice was level but there was a distance that she hadn’t felt before, as if he was slipping away and she was powerless to stop it.
She’d never seen him like this. Never heard him use this tone.
“All I’m saying is that relationships end all the time. It’s a fact of life.”
“Yes, it is. Which makes it all the more important to pick the right person. You’re the right person for me, Frankie, but only if I’m the right person for you. I don’t know what your mother said to you, but I do know that as long as you listen to her, and keep focused on what happened all those years ago instead of paying attention to your own feelings and what’s happening now, this is never going to work.”
Never going to work? Oh God—
She couldn’t breathe.
“Wait—stop. Are you breaking up with me?”
“No.” He sounded weary. “I think you’re the one breaking up with me.”
Claws stalked through the apartment, swishing her tail, but for once neither of them took any notice.
“I’m not! All I’m saying i
s—” She broke off and his gaze locked on hers.
“All you’re saying is that you don’t trust me. Not enough. You don’t trust us, or what we have. Maybe this was a fling to you, a way of discovering your sexuality, but it was more than that for me. Yes, the sex is off the scale but I’m not interested in a fling, Frankie. Not with you. I want the whole thing, thick and thin, richer and poorer, sickness and health, but only if you one hundred percent trust in what we have. I’ve seen my parents weather rough times, and they’ve done it because they trusted each other and in their love, and neither one of them was ever going to give up on that.”
“I don’t know if you’re breaking up or proposing.”
“Neither. I’m asking you to think about what we have and what you want. Because I don’t want to be in a relationship where one of us doubts the other. That doesn’t work for me.” He reached for his phone and his keys and she felt an acute stab of panic.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going for a walk, and then I’m going to the workshop.”
“It’s Sunday.” And they’d planned on having a lazy morning followed by a long walk in Central Park. She’d been looking forward to it.
“I know what day it is.” He paused for a moment and rubbed his fingers over his forehead, as if he was trying to ease an enormous pressure. “We lost a couple of days because of Roxy, so I need to catch up, and—I need some space.”
“From me?”
“I’m not made of stone, Frankie. I have feelings, too. I care about you. I care about us, and the fact that you don’t want the same thing—” He broke off and then shook his head. “I’ll see you later.”
She’d never seen him this upset. The emotion visible in his eyes was raw, real and almost too painful to watch. And even more painful was the knowledge that she was the cause.
Feeling sick, Frankie opened her mouth to speak, to stop him leaving, but Matt left the apartment without looking back.
“Matt? Wait.”
Realizing that someone was yelling at him, Matt turned and saw Eva sprinting toward him. Her hair flew around her shoulders and she was wearing flip-flops on her feet.
The last thing he wanted right now was company, but he stopped and waited for her to catch up with him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. At least not with me.” She was breathless and her hair was messy.
“Your T-shirt is on inside out. You look as if you just got out of bed.”
“That’s because I did.” She tugged at it self-consciously. “Ten minutes ago I was asleep.”