Page 189 of What We Break
"You think Reid is different?" Blake continues, oblivious to—or maybe counting on—my horror. "You think love is enough?" He grunts. "I know you've never stayed anywhere. Not once. Your whole life is a series of places you've left." His voice is flat. Clinical.
"That's not fair."
"It's not about fair. It's about patterns." He turns onto my street. "You're a flight risk. And Reid can't survive another person leaving."
I press my back into the seat. The breath I try to take barely makes it past my throat. "I'm not going to leave him."
"You already are." He pulls up in front of my building, puts the truck in park. Still won't look at me. "You're fading, Laine. Every time you come over, there's less of you. You monitor every word. You make yourself smaller and smaller. That's not staying. That's disappearing."
Tears are burning in my eyes now. I blink them back, furious. I've never been this close to physically attacking someone in my life. "If I'm disappearing, it's because ofyou. Because nothing I do is ever enough. Because you've made it clear from day one that there's no room for me."
"There isn't."
The words hang in the air. Brutal. Final. What did I think he would say?Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. You are a beautiful, wonderful woman and we are so lucky to have you.As if.
"Reid has people," Blake continues, his voice quieter now. "Real people. People who've bled with him. People who know what he looks like when he falls apart. You're not one of them. You never will be."
My ears are ringing. "You don't get to decide that."
"I'm not deciding anything. I'm just telling you what's true." He finally looks at me, and his expression makes my breath catch. There's anger there, yes. But underneath it—something else. Something that looks almost like desperation. "One of us was always going to break, Laine. I'm just making sure it's not him."
I stare at him. The tears are falling now, and I can't stop them.
"So that's it? You've just decided I'm the enemy, and nothing I do will ever change that?"
"You're not the enemy." His voice is rough. Strained. "You're just... you're not supposed to be here."
"What does that even mean?"
He doesn't answer. His hands are white-knuckled on the steering wheel, his jaw so tight it looks painful.
"Blake—"
"There's no version of this that works." The words come out like they're being torn from him. "I've tried. Believe me, I've tried. But I can't—" He stops. Swallows. "You need to go."
There's no way. I can't move. "Not until you explain?—"
"There's nothing to explain." His voice hardens again, the wall slamming back into place. "You asked if we could ever be okay. The answer is no. We can't. So stop trying. Stop showing up with groceries and hope and—just stop."
"Why?" I'm almost shouting now. "Why do you get to decide this? Why do you get to push me out?"
"Because someone has to!" The words explode out of him, raw and ragged. "Because Reid won't, and you won't, and I can't keep—" He cuts himself off. Turns away. His breathing is harsh in the small space of the cab.
"Can't keep what?"
Silence.
"Blake. Can't keepwhat?"
"Get out of the truck, Laine."
"No. Not until you?—"
"You think I want this?" He rounds on me, and his eyes are wild. Anguished. "You think Iwantto be the reason you look like that? Youthink I don't know what I'm doing? I know. I know exactly what I am. And I can't stop."
The words don't make sense. None of this makes sense.
"What are you talking about?"
