“Of course not,” she huffs out, standing up and pacing a few steps away. “He wants me to stay, but it’s time I moved on.”
She picks up a few of her records, wrapping them in bubble wrap and I decide to move the conversation onto something else since she’s starting to clamp up on me.
“Where are you moving to?”
“The other side of town.”
My nostrils flare but I keep my voice as calm as I can because she’s hiding something from me... again. “Okay. Where about?”
She packs the records in a box, taping it up. “Nate, I’m really busy right now, can we do this another time?”
I feel like I’ve already lost her before we’ve even had a chance to get this relationship off the ground. She won’t look at me, continuing to pack as I stand here wondering what’s going through her head.
I’ve always been a straight shooter. I’m not afraid of saying what’s on my mind and I always appreciate when people give me the same courtesy, so the way she’s acting so cold toward me and giving little to no information makes me feel like everything she said to me was a lie.
I want to outright ask her, but that would make her shut down on me, so I move in behind her, so close I’m sure she can feel my breath on her neck.
“If you’re so busy, why aren’t you throwing me out?”
Her back straightens, but she doesn’t move as she whispers, “I really don’t want to do this right now, Nate.” She pauses, and as she lowers her voice even more, I hear a hitch. “Please.”
My hand lifts of its own accord, skirting gently up the outside of her bare arm. “Do what?”
“This.” She starts to step away, but I wrap my fingers around her arm gently. “Nate,” she growls, and I hear the frustration in her voice echoing what I’m feeling.
“Take five minutes out of your busy schedule to talk to me.” When she doesn’t answer, I sigh. “If this relationship was as important to you as you made it out to be then we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
She spins around. “Of course it’s important to me. If it wasn’t then I wouldn’t have gone and met your parents!”
“Is it though?” My heart beats rapidly in my chest. “I love you, Lia, but you need to give me something back. It feels like you’re always hiding a part of you when we’re together.”
She breathes out slowly. "Nate, I—" Her gaze flicks to the other side of the room and I turn to see what she’s looking at, not seeing anything. She faces me, panic on her face. “I need you to go.”
Her quick change in mood catches me off guard. “I’m trying to talk to my girlfriend about our relationship, but it’s like trying to get blood out of a stone getting you to say anything about yourself. God forbid you actually let me into your life like I’ve let you into mine.”
I take a deep breath as she opens and closes her mouth like a fish, the mask she put in place starting to slip as tears fill her eyes. One trickles out and down her cheek and it’s like acid to me. I’ve hurt her out of my own frustration and that wasn’t my intention.
“Lia, I—”
She wipes the tear away from her cheek. “I didn’t tell you I was moving out and quitting my job with the kids because I didn’t know how to.”
I step closer to her. “Okay. Then we’ll work on that. All I’m asking is for you to try and open up with me, even if it’s just a little for now.”
Her gaze flicks out of the front doors and back to me. “I need you to go so I can pack. I leave on Saturday.”
I step forward, picking up an ornament and wrapping it in bubble wrap. “I can help.”
Her shoulders stiffen as she says, “I’d rather be alone right now. This move is important to me so I want to do it on my own.”
It’s like we’re in a game of tug of wa
r, going back and forth which frustrates me more than anything, so I even shock myself when I blurt out, “If it’s so important to you to move out then move in with me.”
She freezes in place, her shoulders tensing for a second as I wait on bated breath for her to say something… anything. That is until she turns around to face me.
“I can’t, Nate.” She stares defiantly into my eyes. “I want to be independent.”
I’ve heard enough. I place the wrapped ornament I’m holding on the sofa beside me, aware she’s watching my every move. “Why do I feel like you’re trying to tell me we’re over before we’ve even began?”