Page 32 of Whimsical Ink
Why would she say that?
Does Daniel love me?
Is Danielin love with me?
If he truly wanted me to take a holiday and relax, he could have dragged me with him anyway. He didn’t gain anything from telling me his family thinks we’ve been dating for six months. No one gained anything from that.
Unless he’s in love with me and wanted me there but didn’t know how to ask me to come.
It doesn’t make sense.
Why would he do that? Why wouldn’t he tell me and avoid the awkwardness?
The stupid seed of hope won’t disappear and instead grows in my chest as I analyse the different angles.
The conclusion I come to is that he either took advantage of me and wanted to have sex with me but I left before we did, or he couldn’t figure out how to ask me out and decided to lie instead to see how I’d react.
The second idea makes more sense to me. Either because it’s the one I want the most or because I’m delusional. But I can’t imagine Daniel putting so much thought into me enjoying my time with his family, and his lovely presents, for it to be the first reason.
Stupid hope overtaking the embarrassment and anger. Even if it is the reason I want, he still got his family to lie with him, but do I care? If my conclusion’s right and he is in love with me, do I care about his idiotic way of figuring out my feelings?
I park at my building and enter my flat for the first time in days. First, I need food. Then I need to call Daniel. I should have gone for a walk on the beach instead of taking his car and driving home.
Did I overreact?
It didn’t seem like it at the time, but the glaring lights in my kitchen illuminate my fears while I fiddle with the necklace he gave me.
I should have stayed and talked with him. Heard him out. I left because I was scared it was all fake, and it still might be, but I should have listened.
Daniel won’t have done this without a reason.
I rub my forehead and sigh. I shouldn’t have left.
Someone knocks on my door, and I drag my feet opening it. I’m not in the mood to talk to any of my neighbours. All I want is to call Daniel, but I need to figure out what to say first.
The impatient knocks continue until I yank the door open and suck in a breath.
“Oh. Hi,” I say quietly.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Daniel responds, lips downturned instead of spread in a smile like usual.
His use of the endearment reassures me. Maybe I’m not wrong.
“You must have left right after I did if you’re here already.”
He gestures to the bags at his feet. “I did. I grabbed your stuff and left. I want to explain everything. Words failed me for the first time in my life.” He huffs and ruffles his hair. “For the most important part of my life, and I’m sorry.”
I nod, hold the door open wider, and grab one of the bags. He enters my home, carrying the bags I left behind, and puts them carefully beside the couch. I add the bag I took to the pile and sit on the couch, gesturing for him to sit beside me.
He collapses heavily and faces me. The drawn look on his face hurts my chest.
“I’m sorry I left without talking to you properly. And for taking your car.”
“No, don’t apologise. You had every right to leave. What I did was shitty. I shouldn’t have got you there like that.”
“Why did you?” I need to know his answer. To know if my theory’s right.
He scoffs. “Because I’m an idiot.”