Definitely, Maybe in Love(40)

"Can I get you something?"

"I told you I'm fine," I said coldly, trying to not breathe. The heady  scent of him still registered in the back of my throat, making my mouth  water.

"I don't think you are."

I made myself look his way. He was smiling, only slightly. Mostly  though, I could tell he was concerned, anxious even, at what he was  observing in me. A fist squeezed around my heart, knowing that a very  big part of me longed to ease his anxiety. But then my stomach rolled,  reminding me why I couldn't.

"Are you tired?" he asked.

"Of course I'm … " But I made myself stop, not allowing my mouth to remind  me aloud why it was that I was tired, why we'd been up all night. I sat  forward, ramrod straight and pinched my eyelids together, concentrating  on mentally folding an origami swan, blocking out the reasons for my  anger.

Numb. Nothing. Blank.

"Ah, I see," he said, and I felt my backpack leaving my shoulder,  sliding off my arm. "Why don't you relax and put your feet up." His  hands were on my shoulders, pushing me back against the cushions. I  didn't fight this, either.

I was aware that Henry had left the couch only when he returned. When I  peeled my eyelids apart, there was a napkin and an open can of ginger  ale on the coffee table before me. I closed my eyes again. A few seconds  later, I felt the cold can between my hands. Mechanically, I lifted it  to my lips and took a sip.

"Feeling better?"

"I said I'm-"

"Fine," he finished for me. "I heard you the first three times." He was  studying me, wearing that anxious/concerned expression again, but when  he met my eyes, he lifted an encouraging smile. "I was going to bring  this up later," he said, "but since you're feeling fine and all … "

"What?" I asked, setting the can on the coffee table.

"I have news. A surprise."

Oh, goodie, the angry side of my brain jabbed. Are you leaving now? Is  that the surprise? Bon voyage, buddy. Don't trip on your way out. The  very next moment, my chest and throat burned with anguish. I didn't want  him to go anywhere.

"A surprise for you."

I pinched my dry, burning lids together in a long blink, then glanced  across the room, trying to focus on anything else while he continued  talking.

"Of course, there are two floors, like I was telling you yesterday," he  was saying. "Plenty of space-too much, really, but it's a perfect  getaway. Well-deserved, I think." He laughed, but it had a bite of  something else to it. "I don't know what my family will say. Camille  will be in favor; my parents, though, I don't know. My father will freak  out, but I think my mother will understand, maybe … "

I continued to sit still, my head throbbing, my stomach knotting up, not having a clue what he was going on about.

"But I don't care. I haven't for months, obviously. It's a wonder I  haven't been thrown out of the program." Another bitter laugh. "Law  school, my family … none of it means much right now. I tried to put off  any decision, thought moving would help, but nothing did any good,  because here we are. At this point, the thought of living any other way  is impossible."

When he lifted my hand off my lap, I glanced at him, straining from the pressure writhing behind my eyes.

"We can go tomorrow," he said. "Or tonight. Right now, if you want."

When my eyebrows pulled together, it caused a new pain in my head. "Go?" I said, realizing I hadn't been listening. "Where?"                       
       
           



       

He pressed his hands together, mine between them. "Tahiti."

Even though I was physically immovable, my brain was working now, catching up to what he'd been saying.

"What?" I pulled my hand free.

He seemed mystified by my reaction, because he only stared at me. A  moment later, he sighed and the lines in his forehead smoothed out. "The  invitation might seem out of the blue to you, but I've been thinking  about it, about you, a lot, and you know how I feel … "

He looked into my eyes and leaned in.

I almost allowed it to happen. Part of me wanted it, wanted him, needed  him. I could practically taste the delicious water waiting to quench my  aching pain and thirst. My hands longed to touch him and feel him one  more time, while another part of me knew better, and I followed its  command.

"Don't," I said, scooting away and standing up. "Don't do that."

Knightly remained on the edge of the couch, looking a little rattled. "Why are you so upset?"

I put my hands on my hips. "Hmm, where should I begin?"

When he rose to his feet, I stepped back, keeping a distance. Henry  stopped and watched me guardedly, like he was waiting to see if my head  was about to burst into flames.

"Spring," he said, sounding genuinely concerned and more than a little anxious. "What's really going on? What's wrong?"

"This plan of yours," I began. "You expect me to drop out of Stanford, leave my whole life, and fly across the world?"

He moved toward me cautiously, his hands out like a cowboy approaching a  wild mustang. "I'm sorry if I was undiplomatic about it. I'm not  romantic, but I am only thinking of you. You can take a break there,  finish your thesis. It's all arranged."

"You're crazy, you know that? You're insane, you're- Why are you laughing?"

He slid his hands in his pockets, his huge grin about to break. "I so enjoy when you get like this."

"You enjoy when I'm angry?"

He took a beat, his brows furrowing. "No, not angry," he corrected. It  was one of the few times I'd seen him backpedal. "You know when I'm just  pushing your buttons."

"You need to leave," I said, realizing my do-not-argue plan had failed. "Right now."

His smile dropped. "Why?"

I nodded toward the door, but he didn't move. "I swear, Henry  Knightly"-my voice was getting louder and higher pitched-"if you don't  leave this instant-"

"Spring."

I jabbed a finger at the door, demanding that he go.

"I'm not leaving." He took a step forward. "I'm in love with you."

I blinked, and air whooshed from my lungs in one hard gust. "What did you say?"

He took another step. "I love you."

For a moment, I still couldn't breathe-I was in shock, his simple words  derailing my anger completely. But the moment was up as quickly as it  had come. He might as well have said his favorite color was blue.

"So?" I said, forcing my voice to regrip the anger.

I could both see and hear him take in a sharp breath.

"So?" He ran a hand through his hair. "I love you and I want you … to come with me, to be with me."

"You seriously think I'll run away with you because that's what you happen to want at the moment?"

Words were flying at me, I could actually see them in my mind's eye,  forming into sentences. Aiding and abetting these words were memories  from the past, bruised feelings that were supposed to be gone, that I  thought were gone. I only had to open my mouth and they came tumbling  out.

"May I remind you that the night we met you treated me like an ingrate?  You were rude and judgmental because of what you heard and because of  the way I looked, like I was beneath your dignity."

"That's not true."

"Why don't you take Lilah to Tahiti? I'm sure she'd be thrilled to pick up where you two left off."

Knightly turned completely white. I thought this would please me, but it  didn't. In fact, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me  again. Once more, I wanted to go to him, to take back my words, to wrap  my arms around him until the hurt in his eyes went away. In some sick,  ironic twist, I knew that comforting him would comfort me. If the past  didn't exist, nothing would be in our way.

But the past was rushing back, too quickly for me to block, and it was very real.

"Lilah, Henry!" My voice broke. "What were you thinking?"

At that point, I didn't know if I wanted an explanation from him, or an  apology, or what. All I knew was suddenly the thought of them together  was revolting.                       
       
           



       

He spread his hands. "Lilah was …  Spring, she means nothing to me. It was nothing."

"Nothing?" I repeated. "You have sex with her and that's nothing? Even you can't be that crass."

He dropped his hands but didn't reply.

"Is that what you expect out of me, too? I'm so sorry I disappointed you  by not tearing off my clothes in front of the campfire."

"I wasn't going to sleep with you last night. It's been one day, we're  not … " He trailed off and thrust another hand through his hair. "Lilah  was a mistake that I've regretted every day since. Believe me."