“I don’t want that,” I tried to cut her off. “Amaya, I need you to stay.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’m not putting myself through this. I can’t. It’s too painful.”
I stared down at the contracts, and my mind exploded in a hundred different directions as she retreated to her room. If she hadn’t signed them, then she could leave. I would never have asked for the money back. I would have to explain her leaving to my family. I would have to live in this apartment by myself once more. And I would have to—Amaya would be gone. That thought thrummed heavy in my head, and I tried to make sense of it. She would be gone, and I couldn’t handle that. Amaya was part of me now, whether I liked it or not.
She came out of her room fully-dressed and didn’t look at me as she made her way across the room and toward the door. As she passed me, I reached out and caught her arm. It was the only thing I could think of to do. I needed her, needed her to stay, and couldn’t find the words in me to tell her that. She came to a halt and turned to me, and my heart lurched as I looked into her eyes. There was something there, something deep and strong, something I couldn’t give shape to quite yet.
And, as those familiar eyes burned into mine, I searched for something, anything, to get her to stay just one more night. To give me time. I didn’t need forever, just something, something to figure my stupid head out for a change. But I stood there, struck dumb, and she shook free of my grasp and headed toward the door.
“Amaya,” I called after her, and she came to a halt. For a moment, I thought it was enough, that she was going to stay. But then she turned and looked me dead in the eye, face contorted with hurt, and spoke.
“Kristo, I don’t think I can do this,” she finally told me. And, with the sound of my name on her lips fresh in my ears, I watched as she pushed the door open and walked out of my apartment and my life. And I knew there was nothing I could do to stop her.