She blinked. “Really?”
“I mean, I’m not sure, but I looked up some of the symptoms online, and—”
Stella groaned. “Don’t do that. The Internet is a cesspool of misinformation.”
“I’d have done the same thing,” said Emme, putting her lipstick in her purse. “Can you ask him directly?”
I bit my lip. “I could, but I don’t want to. I want him to tell me. I want him to trust me.”
“Trust takes time,” said Stella, squeezing my shoulder. “It’s only been a couple days.”
“I know, but we have history. It doesn’t feel like it’s only been two days.”
“Well, then ask him, if it will make you feel better.” Stella shrugged. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Would it bother you if it were true?” Emme asked.
“No! Not at all.” I shook my head. “I’m only bothered by the thought that he feels like he can’t tell me.”
“I get it.” Emme gave me a sympathetic look.
“We should get back to the table,” Stella said. “Are you okay?”
I took a deep breath, and then another. “Yes. Maybe I’m imagining this whole thing. He could just have a headache or be thinking about seeing his brother. That relationship is complicated.”
“Okay. Call me tomorrow if you want to talk more.”
I smiled at her. “Thanks.”
On the walk to the car, Dallas didn’t hold my hand.
“Thanks for coming out tonight. I probably shouldn’t have asked you to. I knew you weren’t feeling well.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“It’s okay.”
I glanced at him. “Are you sure about that? You didn’t seem to enjoy it too much.”
He kept his eyes on the ground. “Sorry.”
Great. Now I’d made him feel bad for feeling bad. “Does your head hurt?”
“Yeah.”
I pressed my lips together. “Can I do anything for you?”
“No.”
We reached the car, and he opened the passenger door for me, waited for me to get in, and closed it. Then he walked around to the driver’s side and got in, but he didn’t start the engine right away. He gripped the wheel with both hands and exhaled audibly.
“What’s going on, Dallas?”
“Nothing. I’m just tired.” He paused. Reached out and put a hand on my leg. “I’m sorry, Maren.”
“For what?”
“I wasn’t much fun tonight.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I just wish you’d talk to me.”
He closed his eyes. “I know.”
But without saying anything else, he started the car.
Neither of us said anything on the drive to my house, although my heart was pounding so loud, I was hardly aware of the silence. What the hell was going on with him? When we reached my house, he pulled into the driveway and put the car in park.
But he didn’t turn it off.
“Are you coming in?” I asked, afraid of his answer.
“I don’t think I should.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” He rubbed his face with both hands before grasping the wheel again. “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”
I shifted in the seat to face him. “Excuse me?”
He kept his eyes on his hands. “This. Us. It’s not going to work.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No.”
I stared at him, too shocked to cry. Then I switched on the car’s interior lights. “Look at me, Dallas.”
His jaw twitched, but he turned his face toward me. It was stony and cold.
“You’re serious?” I demanded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I’m leaving. And a long-distance relationship isn’t what I want.”
The tears were coming, I could feel the sobs building in my chest, but I did my best to stave them off. “Since when? Last night, you said you loved me. You promised to give us another chance. Was that all bullshit?”
He swallowed. Opened his mouth and closed it again.
“Answer me! Tell me you were lying. Tell me you didn’t mean a word you said.”
“I was lying,” he said. “I didn’t mean it.”
“I don’t believe you.” I started to cry. “You said those words and you meant them. I know you did. You had to this time. You had to.”
“Look, I know it’s hard to understand, but—”
“You’re right, I don’t understand,” I cried. “Give me one good reason why we can’t give this a shot.”
“Look, Maren. I thought coming here was the right thing, and I was trying to do the right thing for once in my life, but I fucked it up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I was only supposed to see you and apologize. None of this other stuff was supposed to happen.”
“So why did it?” I demanded. “Why ask me to dinner? Why ask me to spend the night with you? Why tell me you love me? You could have made your apology and left without hurting me again.”
“I made a mistake, okay? At least this time you got your goodbye.”
“Fuck you, Dallas,” I wept. “How could you do this to me?”
“Because I’m a selfish asshole, okay? And you’re better off without me, so just go in the house and forget this weekend ever happened.”
I tipped my face into my hands. Feelings churned and swelled in me like boiling lava. Sorrow. Frustration. Hurt. Anger. Humiliation. Was he really just a selfish asshole incapable of an adult relationship? Should I have seen this coming? It had felt so right, and now he was saying it was all a mistake. I didn’t want to believe it, but what other reason would he have for breaking this off?
Unless he was doing it to avoid telling me his secret.
Sniffling, I picked up my head. “I don’t believe you.”
“What?” He looked at me.
“I don’t think you’re selfish. I think you’re stubborn. I think there’s something you don’t want me to know, and you’re shutting me out rather than telling me what it is.”
“That’s crazy.”
I took a risk. “I know about the seizure, Dallas.”
He stared at me. Seconds ticked by. “What seizure?”
“The one you had yesterday morning at the hotel.”
He looked away again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” Suddenly I was convinced I had it right.
“I had a bad headache. I got dizzy.”
“It was a focal seizure, wasn’t it? I saw the pills you take.” I took a deep breath, reminded myself to be kind and patient. “If you have epilepsy, you can tell me.”
His head turned sharply toward me, but he didn’t say anything.
“Dallas, it’s okay.” I wanted to touch him, but I didn’t. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white. He was breathing hard through his nose. “I don’t care what … conditions you might have. I just want to be with you.”
“But you would care,” he said bitterly. “You’d feel sorry for me. You’d have to take care of me, and I don’t want that. I don’t want anyone’s pity.”
His words were familiar. He’d just used them last night, hadn’t he? When he was talking about—
It hit me.
“Oh, Dallas.” I covered my mouth with both hands.
He still hadn’t moved, but I could see how taut the muscles in his neck were.
I spoke softly. “It’s not your dad with the brain tumor, is it?”
“Get out of the car, Maren.”
“Dallas, don’t do this.” I put my hands on his arm. “Don’t push me away because of your pride. Let me be here for you. Let me—”
“No!” he roared, shaking me off. “No. I’m sorry I hurt you, okay? I’m sorry for what I did then, I’m sorry for what I’m doing now, I’m sorry about my entire fucking existence on this earth, but this ends here. Now.”
“I mean, I’m not sure, but I looked up some of the symptoms online, and—”
Stella groaned. “Don’t do that. The Internet is a cesspool of misinformation.”
“I’d have done the same thing,” said Emme, putting her lipstick in her purse. “Can you ask him directly?”
I bit my lip. “I could, but I don’t want to. I want him to tell me. I want him to trust me.”
“Trust takes time,” said Stella, squeezing my shoulder. “It’s only been a couple days.”
“I know, but we have history. It doesn’t feel like it’s only been two days.”
“Well, then ask him, if it will make you feel better.” Stella shrugged. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Would it bother you if it were true?” Emme asked.
“No! Not at all.” I shook my head. “I’m only bothered by the thought that he feels like he can’t tell me.”
“I get it.” Emme gave me a sympathetic look.
“We should get back to the table,” Stella said. “Are you okay?”
I took a deep breath, and then another. “Yes. Maybe I’m imagining this whole thing. He could just have a headache or be thinking about seeing his brother. That relationship is complicated.”
“Okay. Call me tomorrow if you want to talk more.”
I smiled at her. “Thanks.”
On the walk to the car, Dallas didn’t hold my hand.
“Thanks for coming out tonight. I probably shouldn’t have asked you to. I knew you weren’t feeling well.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“It’s okay.”
I glanced at him. “Are you sure about that? You didn’t seem to enjoy it too much.”
He kept his eyes on the ground. “Sorry.”
Great. Now I’d made him feel bad for feeling bad. “Does your head hurt?”
“Yeah.”
I pressed my lips together. “Can I do anything for you?”
“No.”
We reached the car, and he opened the passenger door for me, waited for me to get in, and closed it. Then he walked around to the driver’s side and got in, but he didn’t start the engine right away. He gripped the wheel with both hands and exhaled audibly.
“What’s going on, Dallas?”
“Nothing. I’m just tired.” He paused. Reached out and put a hand on my leg. “I’m sorry, Maren.”
“For what?”
“I wasn’t much fun tonight.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I just wish you’d talk to me.”
He closed his eyes. “I know.”
But without saying anything else, he started the car.
Neither of us said anything on the drive to my house, although my heart was pounding so loud, I was hardly aware of the silence. What the hell was going on with him? When we reached my house, he pulled into the driveway and put the car in park.
But he didn’t turn it off.
“Are you coming in?” I asked, afraid of his answer.
“I don’t think I should.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” He rubbed his face with both hands before grasping the wheel again. “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”
I shifted in the seat to face him. “Excuse me?”
He kept his eyes on his hands. “This. Us. It’s not going to work.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No.”
I stared at him, too shocked to cry. Then I switched on the car’s interior lights. “Look at me, Dallas.”
His jaw twitched, but he turned his face toward me. It was stony and cold.
“You’re serious?” I demanded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I’m leaving. And a long-distance relationship isn’t what I want.”
The tears were coming, I could feel the sobs building in my chest, but I did my best to stave them off. “Since when? Last night, you said you loved me. You promised to give us another chance. Was that all bullshit?”
He swallowed. Opened his mouth and closed it again.
“Answer me! Tell me you were lying. Tell me you didn’t mean a word you said.”
“I was lying,” he said. “I didn’t mean it.”
“I don’t believe you.” I started to cry. “You said those words and you meant them. I know you did. You had to this time. You had to.”
“Look, I know it’s hard to understand, but—”
“You’re right, I don’t understand,” I cried. “Give me one good reason why we can’t give this a shot.”
“Look, Maren. I thought coming here was the right thing, and I was trying to do the right thing for once in my life, but I fucked it up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I was only supposed to see you and apologize. None of this other stuff was supposed to happen.”
“So why did it?” I demanded. “Why ask me to dinner? Why ask me to spend the night with you? Why tell me you love me? You could have made your apology and left without hurting me again.”
“I made a mistake, okay? At least this time you got your goodbye.”
“Fuck you, Dallas,” I wept. “How could you do this to me?”
“Because I’m a selfish asshole, okay? And you’re better off without me, so just go in the house and forget this weekend ever happened.”
I tipped my face into my hands. Feelings churned and swelled in me like boiling lava. Sorrow. Frustration. Hurt. Anger. Humiliation. Was he really just a selfish asshole incapable of an adult relationship? Should I have seen this coming? It had felt so right, and now he was saying it was all a mistake. I didn’t want to believe it, but what other reason would he have for breaking this off?
Unless he was doing it to avoid telling me his secret.
Sniffling, I picked up my head. “I don’t believe you.”
“What?” He looked at me.
“I don’t think you’re selfish. I think you’re stubborn. I think there’s something you don’t want me to know, and you’re shutting me out rather than telling me what it is.”
“That’s crazy.”
I took a risk. “I know about the seizure, Dallas.”
He stared at me. Seconds ticked by. “What seizure?”
“The one you had yesterday morning at the hotel.”
He looked away again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” Suddenly I was convinced I had it right.
“I had a bad headache. I got dizzy.”
“It was a focal seizure, wasn’t it? I saw the pills you take.” I took a deep breath, reminded myself to be kind and patient. “If you have epilepsy, you can tell me.”
His head turned sharply toward me, but he didn’t say anything.
“Dallas, it’s okay.” I wanted to touch him, but I didn’t. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white. He was breathing hard through his nose. “I don’t care what … conditions you might have. I just want to be with you.”
“But you would care,” he said bitterly. “You’d feel sorry for me. You’d have to take care of me, and I don’t want that. I don’t want anyone’s pity.”
His words were familiar. He’d just used them last night, hadn’t he? When he was talking about—
It hit me.
“Oh, Dallas.” I covered my mouth with both hands.
He still hadn’t moved, but I could see how taut the muscles in his neck were.
I spoke softly. “It’s not your dad with the brain tumor, is it?”
“Get out of the car, Maren.”
“Dallas, don’t do this.” I put my hands on his arm. “Don’t push me away because of your pride. Let me be here for you. Let me—”
“No!” he roared, shaking me off. “No. I’m sorry I hurt you, okay? I’m sorry for what I did then, I’m sorry for what I’m doing now, I’m sorry about my entire fucking existence on this earth, but this ends here. Now.”
