Chapter 27

It's been a few hours since we got back to my condo after the lake. We couldn't stay another day since I have to leave for an away game tomorrow, but we made the most of our time at the cabin. Now, though? Bailey is acting weird as fuck. I made a mistake—almost professed my feelings for her. But she stopped me, and after thinking it through on the drive here, it was probably for the best. Everything was perfect up to the lake, and then once I screwed everything up, she started shutting down. I could sense it, shit, I could even see it. The way her entire demeanor transformed before my eyes. From happy—ecstatic, even—to somber within minutes.

How the hell do I fix it?

And now that we're lying in my bed for the last night together for the next week, I can't even make up for anything I could've done wrong. I don't have enough time.

Bailey sits up in bed, looking at me, then gets up and walks out of the room. My heart starts thundering in my chest, but I debate if I should follow her. For just one moment, I hesitate. Is this going to hurt? Will she leave me? What's wrong with her? I don't know the answers to any of these questions, so like the masochist I am, I get up from the bed and chase after her.

Maybe this is the wrong move, and I should give her the space she needs to gather her thoughts, but I can't stand the thought of having hurt her somehow and not knowing. That's why I get up from the bed and wait a minute before going out to the living area, giving her time to do—well, I don't know what.

"Bailey?" I call out from the hallway. "Are you okay?"

When I round the corner, Bailey is sitting at the kitchen island with a carton of ice cream between her hands and eating right out of it. My shoulders instantly drop in relief, and I join her on the bar stool right next to hers.

"Fine," Bailey mumbles, but it seems forced. "Just have the munchies."

Liar.

"Mind if I join you?" I ask her, and she immediately hands me the spoon. When she turns her face toward me though, my heart freezes in my chest. Bailey's face is red and blotchy, with tears trailing down her cheeks. "Baby?"

A sob rips from her throat. "Sorry." She swallows hard. "I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me, B," I beg her, then get off the bar stool and face her. "You can tell me anything."

"I don't want to." Bailey bites her bottom lip into her mouth as it trembles. "I don't want to hurt you, ever."

"Why would you hurt me?" I ask her, but I know deep in my bones what she's trying to say, and I won't let her. Goddamn it. I will not let her ruin this. "If you don't want to, don't do it."

"It's not that simple, Theo," Bailey whispers.

"I'm done with this," I tell her, and she sobs harder. I grab her from the chair and carry her over to the couch, bridal style, where I drape her over my lap, and she buries her face into the crook of my neck.

"Can we just cuddle and watch TV?" she asks me, and I nod because I can't deny her anything.

"Okay," I answer before grabbing the remote and searching for a movie. "Is this one good?" I ask her.

"It's whatever." I picked one called Look Both Ways, which is seemingly a comedy.

Bailey remains on my lap, watching the movie with me, and when I grab her hand she holds it tighter than usual. Like she's afraid to let go. Everything inside of me wants to reject the notion that she'd leave me, but something tells me she's about to hurt me so fucking bad I'll never recover. I don't understand what I did wrong. I've given her everything, all of me. Every single part I have to offer, and it's still apparently not good enough.

The irony of this movie isn't lost on me, though. And the longer I watch it, the more I think I should've never picked it. It's about what this girl's life would be like in two completely different scenarios. And both of them are happy. What if Bailey starts to think she can be happy without me? That's terrifying. The thought of losing her forever is heart-stopping. I don't think I could ever recover.

Even though the movie really is funny, neither of us laughs one damn time through the first half. I don't think there's anything that could take away the deep-seated fear within me other than her. I wouldn"t think twice if she turned around right now and said that she made a mistake and wants us to be together. I wouldn't question her. I'd move on from this. Because this pain? I wouldn't wish it on anyone. And while she hasn't said it yet, I know it's coming. I can feel it deep within the marrow of my bones, the fucking heartbreak.

Bailey's sniffles draw my attention back to her, and she buries her face in the crook of my neck once more. My entire body tenses, poised for a fight, and when loud sobs begin to rip from her body, I hold my breath. My head starts to spin, and every sound she makes breaks my heart a little more, knowing she's battling with herself over whatever decision she's going to make. She's clearly in pain, but I know she's going to go through with it the moment she stops crying.

Just rip the Band-Aid off, Bailey.

"Theo—"

"No." Don't rip it off. I change my mind. Don't fucking do this. I shake my head, pushing her away so she can look at my face. "You listen to me. Don't fucking do this, baby. Don't you dare do this to us."

"I don't have a choice."

"And why is that?" I ask her, but I don't give her time to reply before saying, "Because you're scared of what we have? Because you know we're great together, and that fucking terrifies you? Well, you won't get off that easy, B. I'm right here. Don't do this to us. I want you."

"Wanting me isn't good?—"

"I love you." My voice cracks with every word, feeling the rejection coming.

Instead, she's silent.

"No," she whispers, shaking her head. "You can't love me, Theo."

"But I do," I sniff, tears streaming down my face. "I love you so much."

"Don't say that!" she sobs, getting up from the couch and pacing in front of me. The rejection doesn't just sting; it stabs me deep within my battered and bruised heart.

I get up from the couch and stand before her, reaching out until my hands wrap around her shoulders. Tears stream down both of our faces and I shake my head. "Tell me you don't love me, Bailey. But if you say it, you should mean it."

Bailey takes a deep breath, "I'm sorry, Theo." She shakes her head, too. "I can't give you what you want. I'm—broken. There's something wrong with me, and I can't love you the way you deserve."

"Can't or don't?" I ask her. "Never mind. Don't answer that." I take a deep breath and walk away from her, running a hand through my hair. "I can decide what I deserve, Bailey. And what I deserve is you. In my life. Waking up next to me every day and forcing me to watch the Summer I Turned fucking Pretty because it makes you happy. Or feeding me molten chocolate lava cake because it's your favorite. Going with me on hikes because it makes me happy." I wipe tears from my face, "And I'm not going to just give up on you, baby, because you're special. What we have is special. We deserve a chance, please don't do this."

"I don't feel the same."

One sentence shouldn't shatter my heart the way it does, except I swear to God I can hear it breaking, echoing in my ears.

I don't feel the same. I don't feel the same. I don't feel the same.

"You, Bailey, are a liar," I say through gritted teeth. "You think I haven't noticed the way you look at me? Half fucking blind with love? Or the way you search for me in a room full of people? Like I'm the only one who exists for you? Well, you're it for me. Stop lying to us, to yourself. You love me too."

"I don't, Theo." However, I see the way her lip wobbles, how more tears stream down her face. If she didn't feel anything, she wouldn't be this distraught. It wouldn't hurt her as much as it does. "And I have to go now."

Without waiting for me to reply, Bailey goes to my bedroom to probably gather her belongings, but I don't go after her. I stay rooted to the spot, trying to figure out what to say or do to get her to stay. I'm not above begging. I'll get on my knees right fucking now. I don't give a fuck. But will that be enough? Probably not.

A few minutes later, she's back in the living room with her weekend bag and her shoes in hand. She sits on the couch to put them on slowly, like it takes effort, and that's when I see her hands trembling. She's not as unaffected as she pretends to be, which gives me a semblance of hope. I love you, Bailey, please.

"Baby," I whisper, and she peers up at me. "Please, please, don't go."

I walk to her place on the couch and get on my knees, sliding between her legs until I can hug her waist and put my head on her lap. Her hands automatically come to my hair, her fingers running through my strands, and I sob harder. I can't lose her; she's part of me now. It sounds so fucking dumb to say, but if she goes, she's taking a part of me with her. One I'll never get back. Which is why I can't let her walk away. Not yet. Not when I haven't had any time with her.

I haven't had enough time.

"Shhhhh," She cries. "Don't cry, please."

"You love me," I tell her, trying to convince her, or maybe myself. "You have to. I've given you everything."

"I know." Her fingers scratch at my scalp and I close my eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want your apologies," I whisper. "I just want you."

"I'm so sorry, Theo." My heart fissures even more. "One day you're going to meet someone who makes you happy, someone who turns your world upside down. The sunshine in your life."

"I already have."

"Don't say that, Theo." Another sob rips from her. "This hurts me a lot."

"Then don't do it." I tighten my arms around her waist. "We can forget this happened. Let's go back to bed, and I'll never bring it up again. I swear, I'll forget about it."

"No." Her fingers halt in my hair and I almost sob again. "I can't do this to you."

"Please don't leave me, Bailey."

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be," she cries, pulling at my hair so I can look at her. "You deserve the best things in life, and that's just not me."

"I'll do anything."

Except she doesn't listen. Instead, she pushes me away and gets up from the couch, gathering her bag and walking toward the door. "I'm sorry," is all she offers my broken heart.

"Stay, Bailey," I call out, and she stops, turning around to gaze at me. "Stay with me."

"I can't."

And just like that, she walks out the door, leaving me to fall onto my hands and knees on my living room floor—alone. Always alone. I wish I could say that I can get over this and her in a few days, but that woman has marked me. She's written her name into my heart, carved it into my soul.

And I don't think I'll ever be able to erase her.