“Mind if I squeeze in beside you?” I stopped outside of the row Reynolds was stretched out in.
He slid off his big headphones, confusion forming on his face. “Be my guest, Doc.” He motioned at the empty seat beside him and stood to let me squeeze by.
The whole time, I felt Archer watching. As I turned to sit, our gazes met for just long enough I could see the same lines of confusion drawn on his forehead. To distract myself, I fought with the buckle, trying to get it adjusted to fit me, but being flustered and nervous was making basic things difficult.
“Do you need some help?” Reynolds asked.
“I’ve got it.”
“Sure about that?” he said when I started beating the two ends together when they refused to latch.
A moment later, I got them to cooperate. “I’ve got it,” I breathed, sagging into the seat.
A few minutes passed in silence except for my shifting every few seconds, trying to get comfortable. I was having a difficult time deciding if I wanted the window shade open or closed.
By the time we were in the air and I was still a shifting, undecided wreck, Reynolds leaned over. “Do you need to talk, Doc?”
Finally I found the right position I felt comfortable in, settling on the window being closed. “No,” I said, closing my eyes. “I need to forget.”
I’D SURVIVED THE plane. I’d survived the walk through the airport, when he’d tried coming up beside me and slipping something into my hand, by dodging into the women’s bathroom before he could get the little box in my grip. I’d survived the drive to the hotel. I’d survived the awkward moments when he’d tried to get my attention and I’d pretended not to notice. I’d survived the day.
I wasn’t sure I’d survive the night. I wasn’t sure I’d survive the hotel.
As soon as the team had gotten checked in, I’d disappeared into my room and hadn’t left it. The phone started ringing five minutes after I locked myself inside. Since my cell was still turned off, I guessed he figured he’d try to get a hold of me this way. After the third call went unanswered, I took the phone off the hook. I wasn’t ready.
My cell I turned back on because I couldn’t risk missing a team call, but I kept it on silent so his calls, which came in every fifteen minutes, wouldn’t echo through the room. I refused to look at the stream of texts coming in from him, or the ones I’d missed.
As a distraction, I flipped the television on to break the silence and the tone of my thoughts. It didn’t work.
It was just past eleven when a soft knock sounded outside my door. I’d just been heading into the bathroom when I froze. It wasn’t housekeeping on the other side.
“Allie?” His voice was quiet, but it seemed to echo through my room like a shout. “I know you’re in there. I heard you moving around. I’ve been standing outside of your room for ten minutes trying to figure out what the hell to say. Trying to figure out what the hell’s going on. Are you okay?” A thud came from the other side of the door, like he’d dropped his forehead into it. “Are we okay?”
When I didn’t reply in the form of words or opening the door, I heard him sigh. “Is this about the charity ball the other night? Are you upset about something I did? Mad that we didn’t go together? Because you know how I feel about that. I don’t care if people see us. I don’t care if everyone finds out we’re together. I’m tired of pretending.”
His words were so sincere, the ache in them so raw. My throat was burning from the emotions erupting inside me. It was unfair that the world had created a man who could master such sincerity when none existed beyond the façade.
“Please talk to me. Please just open the door. Scream at me. Slap me. Just do something. This silent thing is killing me, Allie. This isn’t how two people communicate.” Another thud on the outside of the door. “Please just tell me what you’re upset about so I have the opportunity to explain myself or share my side of the story. I can’t fix this if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
My arms crossed like I was trying to keep myself together. There was nothing to fix, because there’d been nothing between us. You can’t fix something you never had.
“Allie? Please?” His voice was louder now, tight with emotion.
That was when I almost caved. That was when my body angled toward the door, my hand lifting in its direction. That was when I realized how weak I’d become because of him. I could barely control my own body. I was incapable of controlling my own thoughts, he’d rendered me into such a fragile state. The strength I’d known had left me in my most desperate moment, and part of me hated him for that.