Page 188 of What We Break
Five minutes.
I should let it go. Let the silence swallow us whole until we pull up to my apartment. Let him drop me off and drive away and go back to pretending I don't exist.
But I'm so tired. So tired of tiptoeing. So tired of measuring every word, making myself smaller and smaller and still not being small enough.
"Blake."
"What."
"Why are we like this?"
His hands tighten on the wheel.
"Laine—"
"I've been trying for months." The words come out tripping over each other, but I can't stop. I can't let him cut me off again, can't let him shut this down before I get it out. "I bring groceries. I ask about your work. I give you space when you need it. I have done everything I canthink of to make this work, and you still look at me like I'm something you stepped in."
"Drop it."
"I can't." My voice cracks, and I hate it. I don't want to be the one cracking. "I can't drop it because I love him. I love Reid, and you're his family, and I'm exhausted from trying to earn a place at a table you've decided I don't belong at."
The truck stops at a red light. Blake stares straight ahead, jaw tight, that little muscle still jumping.
"You want to know what you did?" His voice is low. Rough. "You showed up."
"What?"
"You showed up with your farmer's market groceries and your questions about my work and your—" He stops. Breathes. "You just showed up. And you keep showing up. And you won't stop."
I just stare at him. "That's called being in a relationship. That's called trying."
"I know what it's called."
"Then what's the problem? Honestly. Please, explain it to me like I'm five."
The light turns green. He drives, nearly pulling at the wheel, all the muscles of his arm and shoulder bunching.
"There's no problem."
"Bullshit." The right word, but I still have to force it out. I don't swear. But seriously, if there was ever a moment, this is it. "You've hated me since the day we met. You've made me feel like an intruder in my own boyfriend's house. And I want to knowwhy."
Silence. Another block passes.
Okay. I am so done with this. I'm done begging and tiptoeing. "Answer me!"
Is yelling at the massive ex-soldier a great idea? Maybe not. But it seems to finally crack through that wall he put up.
And let the truth leak out.
"You want to know why?" He snaps, glancing at me, eyes fiery. "Because you don't belong here. You're playing house, Laine. Playing 'paramedic's girlfriend.' But you're not built for this life. You're not built to stay."
He could have actually slapped me, and it would have hurt less. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know you've never stayed anywhere. Not once." His voice is flat. Clinical. "Missionary kid. New country every six months. Life packed into two suitcases."
My stomach turns. I told Reid that. I told him in bed, in the dark, whispering about how hard it was to never have a home.
They talk about me. Reid tells him everything, and to Blake, it's just evidence. A case file of all my faults.
