Page 55 of Trusting You
Jesus Christ, I’m an idiot. I can’t do anything right, not even cheer him up properly without forcing him to use his knee.
“The coffee shop was a dumb idea,” I blurt out.
Locke glances up. “What?”
I gesture to the front door. “The art display, all of it. It’s so stupid. I don’t know what I…” I shake my head, resist the urge to cover my face with my hands. “What am I doing here?”
To prevent further injury to Locke, I scoop Lily, bring her to the door, open it, and jerkily drag the stroller in. Locke’s attempting to stand, using the ottoman as a prop. “Carter, wait. I need to process what you’re saying.”
“See?” I say with high-pitched strain. “I come into your apartment, clearly interrupting your quiet time, and when I notice you’re sad, all I want to do is make it right, and what’s better than a baby fresh off her nap? But instead of making anything better, I hurt you further.”
“I don’t…” He shakes his head as if dislodging cotton balls. “Speak slower.”
“All I’m doing by being here is creating hurt. For you, for Lily. For me.”
Locke huffs out a breath and rakes one hand through his hair as he falls back onto the couch. “You’re not creating a problem by being here.”
The whole thing comes out as a sigh. “Yeah, you’re really convincing me right now.”
His hand falls from his head, and he asks the ceiling, “What is it you want from me?”
“To…to…” I have no idea. I left the cafe feeling pretty good about the present, falling into a routine and looking forward to having dinner with Lily and Locke. Locke. He’s an unexpected addition in my happy family imagination, but I don’t mind it. I want to hear his lame jokes over dinner and watch him spoon-feed Lily when she’s finished flinging pasta at the walls. I want to see him laugh over something I said and look at me a little too long over his forkful of food that I made.
Except, what I walked into was the exact opposite. Locke, angry, alone, and wallowing. Lily, asleep and unable to create an amusing buffer between us. He’s angry at me. Locke’s angry at my presence.
And that doesn’t just hurt. It destroys.
“I’m taking her for a walk,” I say instead, even though I’ve already mentioned it to Locke. “We’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“Shouldn’t you stay?” But he doesn’t mean it. I can tell. His eyes are hooded, and he appears to be ten seconds from passing out.
“Nothing more needs to be said.” I can’t look at Lily for this part. “I’ll start looking for flights.”
Locke jerks upright. “Carter—no. How I acted before, I was an ass. I don’t want you to leave.”
“But I have to,” I say and hate how I tremble. “This isn’t real. We’ve been play acting.”
“What about all these paintings?” He motions to my stack. “Your plans here? You don’t need to leave. We’re having a fight. That doesn’t mean I want to kick you out.”
I pause with my hands on the stroller’s handles. “We’re having a fight?”
“I…are we?”
“I don’t know.”
I’ve never fought with a guy before. My parents, sure. Brother, definitely. But to fight with a guy would mean having some kind of relationship with one, and for the most part, Paige and I kept to ourselves in college.
Well. Present company excluded, of course.
“Look, my sister wants to take you out,” Locke says.
“Huh?”
Lily’s making impatient sounds, so I start pushing the stroller in a rocking motion.
“Tomorrow night. So you can’t leave.”
I’m pretty sure Astor hates me. “I don’t know if that’s…”