Arrogant Playboy(14)
“Came to check on you. Haven’t heard from you in a while. Was getting worried.” His hands grip the arms of his chair as he pushes himself into a standing position. “Had a few days off from shooting.”
It’s not the answer I expected. Was hoping for something along the lines of, “I came back because I realized how crazy I am for doubting us.”
“How are you holding up?” His clear blue eyes squint. “You’re all dressed up. You start a new job?”
“I’m doing some consulting.”
“Good, good. You’re staying busy.”
Our small talk is painful and trite. I’d give anything to dive right into one of our old heart to hearts where nothing’s off the table and brutal honesty is the name of the game.
Who knew we could lose all that in just two weeks?
“How are you doing?” I ask, praying for a hint that these last fourteen days have been just as brutal for him as they’ve been for me.
“Doin’ real good, Sam.”
My heart breaks with one little word: good.
“That’s nice.” I force a smile, inhaling a lungful of tension and uneasiness. The floor beneath my feet wobbles, though I’m sure it’s my imagination. I need to sit.
It’s easier to be strong when he’s not around, when I can funnel my anger into grit and determination. But seeing him now, standing within arm’s reach and untouchable? Sensing that we’re no better off now than we were two weeks ago?
It changes things.
“Sam, you okay?” Jeremiah rushes toward me, taking my arm and leading me to the sofa we’d spent many Friday nights binge watching The Walking Dead and eating massive quantities of Chinese takeout after intense weeks of blogging.
I collapse into the cushy pillows. He takes the spot next to me, still holding my arm.
Jeremiah’s baby blues used to comfort me. Absent is their cozy familiarity. He stares at me like he has no idea what he should do when he should know. That man knows me better than anyone.
“I don’t like this.” I draw my legs in, leaning away. “This gray area. Not knowing what we’re doing.”
“I don’t like it either.”
Then end it.
“How much longer do you need?” I barely have the strength to meet his gaze. “Have you done any thinking about us in these last two weeks or have you been busy working this whole time?”
It’s not right for him to leave me hanging. If he only came here to check on me and not to discuss what’s going on between us, I’ll be livid.
“Both,” he says. “And I don’t know how much longer I’ll need. I don’t want to give you the wrong answer.”
“Either you still love me and still want to spend your life with me,” I say. “Or you don’t. It’s pretty simple.”
“It’s not simple at all, Samantha.” After all these years, I still love the way he drawls my name out, his accent dragging each syllable a millisecond too long. “A year ago? Six months ago? Yeah. I thought I knew exactly what I wanted.”
“Which was?”
“You,” he says. “You as my wife. A couple kids. A house in the suburbs. Maybe Connecticut. A simple life.”
“What changed?”
“What do you mean what changed? Everything changed.” His hand pulls from my arm, resting on his knee as he stares ahead at the coffee table. “They’re saying I’m going to be huge, Samantha. They’re talking huge endorsement contracts, restaurants, a cookware line. They’re calling me the next Rachael Ray or Paula Deen, only the attractive, guy version.”
He laughs. The old Jeremiah never would’ve called himself attractive despite the fact that he inarguably was.
“This is all so surreal,” he says. “There’s so much going on my head is spinning, and I don’t have the time to dedicate to you – to our relationship. It’s not fair to you.”
“Fine,” I say. “You want to take over the world. Great. I don’t understand why I can’t be a part of that? I’ve been by your side all along. We always said we were going to take over the world together.”
“I want that, Samantha.” His voice breaks. “I can’t imagine going through all of that without you. But on the other hand, I know I wouldn’t make our marriage a priority, especially while my empire’s getting off the ground. How could I do that to you?”
He turns to me, taking my hand and squeezing it. My heart clings to his. I want to kiss him, lay in his arms. Convince him that we’ll be fine no matter what.
Instead, I freeze. Because now I don’t know.