Page 198 of What We Break
"It's been five months. I'm not new anymore." Her voice is quiet but certain. "He's made it pretty clear."
"Blake's protective of me," I say. I sound like a broken record, but it's true. "He's seen me get hurt before. Once he realizes you're not going anywhere?—"
"Reid." The way she says my name stops me. "He told me I was a flight risk. To my face."
What the actual fuck? That can't be right. "When did he say that?"
"Last week. When he drove me home after my car broke down." She's still looking at our hands, refusing to meet my eyes. "He said I'm not built to stay. That I'm just... playing house until I get bored."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
Flight risk.
I used those words. I told Blake that a few months ago, late one night when I was terrified I was falling too hard for a girl who lived out of suitcases. I told him that in confidence. I told him because I needed him to tell me I was being an idiot.
Everything is different now. And he knows it. And he threw it in her face?
"Jesus Christ." The anger hits me fast and hot. "He had no right to say that to you. None."
Laine goes very still. She slowly pulls her hand out of mine.
"So you did talk about me?" Her voice is barely a whisper. "You discussed my 'risk factors'?"
"I talked to him because you're important to me. He's my best friend, Laine. When something matters to me — when someone matters to me — I talk to him about it. That's what friends do."
Her brow furrows. "You told him about the suitcases? About how I moved around as a kid?"
"Yeah, I did. Because I was falling for you and I was scared and I needed someone to tell me I wasn't losing my mind." I drag a hand through my hair, yank a little too hard. Blake should have kept his fucking mouth shut. "But that was private. Between us. He had no business throwing that back at you."
She nods slowly. This tiny, dip of her chin. No fight in it. No heat. Just — acceptance, like she expected this all along, like she'd already packed the bag in her head and was just waiting for the reason.
That's the nod that gets me. Not yelling. Not a door slam. Just that.
"Okay," she says.
Why does that one word feel like a door closing?
"Laine, wait. It's not like that. We don't sit around analyzing you. I was just... I was scared early on, and I talked to him. That's it."
"And now he uses it to tell me I don't belong."
"He shouldn't have said that. I'll talk to him." I reach for her again, but she stands up, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Is it okay if maybe you go home tonight? I think I'm just going to go to bed," she says. "I'm so tired."
Fuck. Fuck. It didn't used to matter if she was tired. She still welcomed me into her bed. She still let me hold her all night.
"Laine, come on. Don't shut me out." I'm on my feet too. "We'll figure it out. You two just need to spend more time together when I'm around. Maybe the three of us can do something this weekend. Dinner? Or a movie?"
"Sure," Laine says, but her eyes are dull.
She is shutting me out. I can feel the wall going up, brick by brick.
And the worst part is, Blake helped her build the damn thing.
"I love you," I tell her, because I need to say it. I need to remind both of us that we’re in this.
"I love you too," she says.
