Shaking his head, Henry looks down at the sidewalk, then back up at me. “I don’t know what else there is to say. I don’t know where we go from here, Nicole.”
Oh, God, please tell me he isn’t going to dump me in front of Derek. Not in front of Derek. Anywhere else, but not here.
Kicking a rogue stone on the sidewalk, I keep my gaze down and tell him, “We don’t have to decide anything right now. Not here. Not in front of him.”
“Is it worth hanging on?” he asks, shrugging hopelessly. “Is it? It seems like you gave more to him in one night than you’ve given me in a whole year. I’ve worked relentlessly to get close to you, Nicole. I’ve waited for you. I’ve had the patience of a fucking saint. If anyone was going to chip away at all that ice around your heart, it should have been me.”
That stings. I stiffen, swallowing down a lump of something. It’s one thing for me to refer to myself as an ice queen; it’s quite another when he does it.
Shaking his head, he goes on, “And you know what? I’ve never complained. I’ve never pressured you. I have never asked for more than you could give. I was content to wait you out. But this is just… it’s not fair. I’ve done everything right and he has done everything wrong, and you give more to him than you’ll give to me.”
Nothing he is saying is wrong, but that makes it even harder to hear. I feel sick to my stomach—sick with guilt, sadness, and a host of other unpleasant feelings—but mostly I just need him to stop talking. “That’s fair,” I say, hearing—and hating—the cold, unaffected sound of my own voice. This isn’t how we should end. Henry has been so good to me, and it shouldn’t end this way. He shouldn’t think I never cared. I want to tell him that I did, that I still do, that I’m sorry for my emotional limitations, that I don’t know why I can’t give him what he wants. I want to say so many things, I want to express feelings that I do have, but I can’t get the words past my throat.
“That’s it?” he asks, faintly disbelieving. “That’s fair?”
I beg for the words to come, but they won’t. Derek lingering nearby doesn’t make it any easier. “I’m sorry,” I say, since it’s the most I can get out. “You’re right. I just… I don’t know what to say. I can’t…” Frustrated by my own ineptitude, I shake my head. Tears burn behind my eyes, and that freezes me up even more. Even if I could handle letting them fall in front of Henry, I can’t handle letting them fall in front of Derek. He saw my last tear fall for him years ago. I don’t care if he takes a fucking sledgehammer to my whole life, I’ll never shed another tear for him. I’ll stand here stoic and watch him break down every wall of this life I’ve built before I give him the satisfaction of an emotional response.
“Wow,” Henry says, looking a little stunned.
“Please… let’s leave. Let’s just… let’s go back to my house. I can’t…” I shake my head, refusing to look at him. “I can’t do this in front of him.”
“No,” Henry says, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Nicole. Maybe you’re willing to let your life revolve around him. That’s your choice. But I’m not.”
It’s harder than it should be to keep my head up, my shoulders back, my face straight as the only person who has consistently cared about me when he didn’t have to turns and walk away from me. It’s official. I can drive anyone away. I’ll always drive everyone away.
I deserve to be left. I took and I took, but I didn’t give back. Not enough, anyway.
I can’t fix it now. It’s broken. I’ve tried to fix the broken thing after it shatters; I know that doesn’t work. I know it’s too late.
I’m frozen in this spot, and it’s the last place in the world I want to be. I want to turn and watch him drive away, but I won’t do that. That will hurt too much. It already hurts too much. Ice queens shouldn’t be able to hurt this much, should they?
I have to do something, so I fling the bag of popcorn and cup full of soda at Derek, then I reach into my purse with my now-free hands, draw out my cell phone, and text Bethany for a ride.
Almost. Just before I push send, I remember she left for her honeymoon today.
I have no one else to call.
I have no one.
Derek quietly picks up the now-empty popcorn bag and the soda cup. Diet Coke darkens the pavement where it spilled all over when I threw the full cup at him, and a yellow, buttery blanket of popcorn litters the ground beneath us, just waiting to be stepped on and crushed by the next cluster of movie-goers.
After throwing the trash away, Derek walks over to me. He starts to drape an arm around my shoulders, but I snap, “Don’t.”
He lowers his arm, fishing his keys out of his pocket. “Let me give you a ride home,” he says, his voice soft, like he knows he overstepped. It doesn’t mean he regrets it, he just knows that I am unhappy, and he knows he’s the reason—again.
“You’ve done enough,” I tell him, turning away and walking down the parking lot toward the road.
“Nikki, come on.” He jogs after me. “There’s no reason for you to walk home. I’m the reason your ride left. Let me take you home.”
“Fuck off, Derek.”
“Better idea,” he says. “Let me take you to my home. You can be as mad as you want at me. I can take it.”
“Yeah, right,” I tell him, rolling my eyes. “I just checked your track record, and I’m sad to inform you that you’re full of shit.” Stopping and turning to glare at him, I ask, “Why couldn’t you just let me have one nice thing? Just one? Why did you have to come back? I had a whole life without you. Maybe no one thinks it’s fucking good enough, but it was mine, and I liked it. I liked the people in it. It was nice. You don’t want me, and you don’t want anyone else to have me either. You’re mean, Derek. That’s what you are. People may look at me and see the ice queen, but you are mean.”
“I wasn’t trying to be mean,” he tells me.
“You don’t have to try, Derek. It just comes naturally to you.” Angrily jabbing my hand in the direction of the road Henry disappeared down, I seethe, “He was the hero. He was the hero. In the story of my life, you have never been the hero. You’re the villain. You’re the one that breaks me. You’re the one who hurts me. You’re the destroyer. You’re the taker. You may have won, but that doesn’t make you the hero. You will always be my villain.”