“Will you come with me?”
“Why would I come with you? My hair is like a centimeter long, and I can keep it that way myself with a buzzer.”
“But—”
“Drop it, Olivia.” His voice is sharp.
My mouth snaps shut and I look down quickly at the counter. And then, because there’s also anger simmering beneath the pain, I toss the bags of frozen peas none too gently on the counter and stand. “I’m going to go shower.”
“?’Kay.” He’s fiddling with his cellphone and not even looking at me.
I bite back a sharp retort and mentally count to three, giving him a chance to pick up on the fact that he’s being an ass.
One, two, three…
“Hey,” he says, still not looking at me. “I ordered the DVD set of The Bourne Identity series and it came yesterday. Want to have a marathon after we’ve showered?”
I wait. He still doesn’t look up.
Okay. That’s it.
I snatch the cellphone out of his hand so that he’s forced to look at me. Instead of looking apologetic, he looks puzzled, and that is so much worse.
“No, I don’t want to have yet another endless movie marathon, Paul. Nor do I want to spend all freaking day reading, or take another long walk that’s just the two of us. I don’t want to continue my chess-playing lesson, I don’t want to try out the new audiobook subscription you got, I don’t want to try my hand at video games, and I don’t want to go to the gym again.”
“You said you liked chess,” he mutters.
“This isn’t about chess! Or spy movies! It’s not about whether or not I enjoy reading by the fire with you, which I do. It’s that this isn’t healthy! We can’t just stay locked up in here forever.”
His eyes darken, and the wary confusion is replaced by defensive anger and stubbornness.
I start to panic a little, although there’s definitely still mad in there too. With narrowed eyes I say, “Do you ever plan to take me to dinner, Paul? Are we ever going to go on a vacation, even a simple weekend getaway?”
His jaw tightens. “Olivia—”
“No, wait,” I say, holding up a hand. “Let me ask the question in a different way. Are we ever going to leave this house?”
He says nothing, but his blue eyes stay locked on mine, steady and completely unrepentant.
“Oh my God,” I say, taking a step back, feeling a little stunned despite the fact that the writing’s been on the wall since day one. “You have no intention of leaving this house.”
He looks away.
“Ever?” My voice cracks.
“Look, why don’t we go to the Cape? My dad has a house there, and—”
“Let me guess,” I interrupt. “It’s completely secluded.”
“It’s private,” he amends.
“I can’t live like this!” I explode. “I can’t spend my twenties holed up in the middle of nowhere.”
Paul stands, glowering down at me. “Since when? You knew exactly what you were getting into when you came here. Hell, it’s why you came here, isn’t it? To escape the world? To escape your guilt? And now that you’ve forgiven yourself and seen that your ex-boyfriend is just fine without you, you’re changing the rules?”
“Yes! That’s how it works, Paul. You deal with shit however you need to, and then you get over it. You move on.”
“I have moved on.” His arms fold over his chest.
“Bullshit.” I jab a finger at him. “I thought you’d healed, but really you’ve just added one more item to your recluse’s collection. Me.”
He doesn’t answer, and I let out a crazed little laugh. “You know, I was actually naive enough to think that I’d helped you. I let myself think that I’d successfully pulled you out of your little pit of despair. But it’s the other way around, isn’t it? You’ve merely pulled me into your vortex of fear and isolation.”