Page 84 of Perfect Guy
Maybe that’s it. Maybe after playing a game, we can lay on the hammock outside. Make him remember the good times we had together. It could lift his spirits. If not…
I don’t want to think about that. If our relationship can’t overcome this, then we’re not meant for better or worse.
I push that thought aside and shuffle the cards, passing them out.
“You go first,” I tell him.
“Do you have a six?”
“Darn.” I hand over my six.
“Do you have a ten?” I ask, hopeful.
“Go fish,” Canaan smirks.
I stare at him for a second, taking in that small smile. My eyes water, but I don’t want to ruin the moment, so I roll my eyes and pick a card from the deck. Seeing that kind of reaction from him makes me hope that we will overcome this.
I miss the ease that surrounded us every time we were together. I didn’t think twice about getting close to him, holding his hand, hugging him. Now, when I think about it, I become anxious. He hasn’t taken the initiative, and it’s making me self-conscious. He’s going through a difficult time, a transition in life, and I want to be his support, not a nag.
Part of me wants to talk to him, communicate. I want to ask him what’s going through his mind and see how I can help him. I’m afraid of his response, though. If he says that he doesn’t need me…
I can’t lose him.
I refuse to lose him.
We continue to play until Canaan squeezes his eyes. He’s done it a few times, and I grow concerned.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he doesn’t give me more than that.
“Do you want a break?” Maybe he doesn’t want to tell me because he’s afraid it’ll show weakness.
“I’m actually kinda hungry. You brought something, right?” He glances at me.
“I did,” I nod and stand, heading to the kitchen to grab the box.
“What did you bring?” He tilts his head, eyeing the box, eyes narrowed as if he’s concentrating.
“A cinnamon roll,” I say slowly, furrowing my eyebrows.
“Ah, okay,” he nods. “That’s right.
“I’ll grab plates. I forgot.”
“Nah.” He reaches for my arm. “Stay.” His command is so low that I wonder if I heard correctly or if it’s me hoping I did.
“Okay.” I sit beside him and open the box. I hand him his cinnamon roll and grab the donut I got for myself.
“Thanks for this.” He lifts the roll.
“You don’t need to thank me. I know it’s a rough time, Cane, but I’m here. I’m all in the same way I was before. Okay?” I lift my brows.
He nods and takes a bite of his treat. His eyes close for a brief moment, peace filling his features. I haven’t seen that look on him in a while. Understandably so.
“Good?” I ask, amusement filling my voice.
“Yeah,” he nods. “Thanks again.”