She leaned over the couch and smiled. “Are you mad?”
“No, I’m kidding. Go, read, enjoy!”
An hour later, when Trevor showed up with Chinese, Cara came out, got a plate, and darted back into her room.
“What’s her deal?” he asked.
“She’s really into her new book.”
“Well, I guess it gives us time to talk.” We sat down side by side at the breakfast bar, opening cartons silently, waiting for someone to go first.
After a few bites, I put my chopsticks down. “You want to talk? Fine? Why don’t you ever tell me you love me?”
“I’ve told you I love you before,” he said, astonished. “And this isn’t what I wanted to talk about.”
“Well, I do. You have said it but you don’t say it often. Don’t you feel like you can say it to me?”
“You never say it to me either.”
Fair point. “I don’t think we even know what it means,” I said through a mouthful of sesame chicken.
“Whatever it is you’re going through has nothing to do with me,” he said. Trevor had this way of shifting responsibility away from himself in every argument. It drove me crazy.
“People are in relationships so they can share things with each other.”
“This, coming from you? Emi, after seven years, I still barely know you. I only know what you share with me, which doesn’t include anything from your past.”
I could feel myself getting defensive. “Since we’re playing the blame game, you haven’t made much of an effort to get to know me, or to commit to me in any real way.”
Trevor’s face fell, and I could tell I’d struck a nerve.
“Are you serious? You keep saying you don’t know where you’ll end up a year from now. What does that even mean? How do you think that makes me feel?”
“Then why are you here?” I asked, simply. I didn’t want to sound callous, but I could tell that I’d gone too far. That I was cutting him too deep.
“I moved down here for you, Emi. I built my life around our relationship.” He got up from his stool. “We’re not kids anymore. I can’t deal with your fickle shit and listen to you say I won’t make a commitment to you. You’re the one who won’t commit to me.”
I felt all kinds of retorts bubbling inside of me. The only job offer you got was at San Diego State. You didn’t move here for me. I’m just the girl you’re passing time with. We both know it. Why else would you have a hard time saying I love you? Why else can’t I see our future?
I got up and headed toward my room, and Trevor followed right behind me. I turned around to face him and rested my hand on the door for a moment as he waited silently in the doorway. And then I pulled him toward me and kissed him, pressing my body against his. I didn’t want to talk anymore.
THE NEXT MORNING, as I drank coffee at the breakfast bar, Cara came skipping by. “What’s eating you?” she asked. I didn’t know how she could tell these things just by looking at the back of my head, but she could intuit moods like no one else. She poured herself a mug of coffee and leaned against the counter, facing me, waiting for my response.
“Trevor.”
“Trevor eating you?” She smirked.
“Not in a good way, pervert.” I rolled my eyes.
“Are you guys fighting again? Sounds like you made up last night.”
“We’re always fighting. Even when we’re making up.”
She straightened, as if something had just occurred to her, and then rushed off. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
When she came back into the kitchen, she set a book down in front of me. I glanced at the jacket. All the Roads Between. “You’re finished already?” I asked.
“Stayed up all night. I loved it. You said I owed you one for bailing on you last night, and this is my repayment. I think you could use the escape.”
“Oh yeah?” I ran my hand over the cover. It was a faint image of two kids holding hands on a road. There was something familiar about the scene, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Maybe you can escape your own slightly flawed love story for a bit and get lost in something more satisfying—even if it is fiction.”
I sighed and picked it up. Maybe she was right. I grabbed my mug of coffee with my other hand and headed toward my bedroom. “Thanks, Care Bear,” I called back.
“Anytime.”
Once inside, I plopped down on my bed and cracked open the book to the first page. From the moment I read the second line in the first paragraph, my heart rate tripled. Instantly, I was sweating. By the end of the first page, I was almost hysterical.