My shoulders fall as I tilt my head up to him. “That’s not what happened, and you know it.”
He raises his eyebrows, and he steps back to give me my space. “Explain it to me because it sounds like you took our entire relationship from the day we met and turned it into a love story.”
“I thought you’d be happy about that.” I place my hand on his chest, but it’s obvious my touch is not welcome, so I pull it back.
“You thought I’d be happy about the fact that you think our life was good enough for fiction, yet you’re not sure if you believe in what you write? Do you even like me, or was this just to get story ideas since you were suffering from writer’s block?”
“You know it wasn’t like that. I’m crazy about you.” I step toward him, but he puts his hands up, silently asking me to stay where I am.
“No, I don’t. I told you I was in love with you, and you freaked out.”
“You can’t love me. No one falls that fast. Besides, that’s not love; it’s lust and some fun jokes and great moments, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to last.”
“Bullshit.”
He steps closer, and I take in a sharp inhale.
“Excuse me?”
“You fell in love with me too.” He’s even closer now, and I can barely breathe, having him so near.
“You sound so sure,” I say under my breath as I reach for my cup to have some kind of security even if it’s false.
“You did, Lacey.” He places his fingers under my chin to turn my face back toward him. “You fell in love with me, and it’s right here in all two hundred and eight fucking pages. You think love doesn’t last? Well, even you gave us a damn epilogue, saying it did.”
“It’s fiction,” I yell as tears prick my eyes, mad that they’re appearing.
“It’s reality, and you’re scared. Admit it. You’re afraid of what this is. It’s love. It’s you and me, and it’s happening. Yes, couples fight. Yes, they probably even hate each other’s guts some days. But that’s the real world. Loving someone so damn much that you’ll weather through the storm is what I want. I’m willing to try that with you, but you’re not.”
“No, that’s not true.” I shake my head as I let everything he just said sink in. “You’re too much of a dreamer, Jake. You can’t even see that what we have is moving so fast. Too fast. I mean, who even says I love you this soon?”
“You do. It’s right here in your book.” He slaps his hand on the pages.
“Stop throwing my book in my face.”
“You don’t think you’re a walking hypocrite? You’re still on birth control, Lace. Why? And don’t give me some bullshit about how it regulates your period. You’re hiding behind the fact that you still care about meeting someone. Being intimate with someone.”
“Sex is not love.”
“It was for me. With you, it was love. I wasn’t even expecting for you to say it back. I knew you wouldn’t be able to. Not yet, anyway. Yet, you couldn’t even handle me expressing it. You can’t handle a man feeling love toward you.”
“I can only give you so much of me,” I say as tears fill my eyes. “Why can’t you be okay with what I’m willing to give?”
“You have no idea how cruel you are.”
I shake my head again as tears fall down my face. “Don’t say that—”
“You used me.”
“How can you say that? You wanted me to write about you. Let me be your muse. I’m the perfect book boyfriend. A total catch. You are so two-faced, you know that? You want me to write about you, and when I do, you flip. You wanted this. Admit it.”
“Not like this.”
“Then, like what then?”
“You’ll never get it. I’m not going to stand here and fight for you to love me.” He walks around me and heads toward the front of my apartment.
“That’s right. Run. Your mother’s right. You are a typical Libra who can’t handle not being the center of attention. If you’re not the center of my damn universe, then you don’t want in at all. I’m willing to give you what I can. It’s you who wants more. Well, we’re not Cassiopeia and Cepheus. I’m not going to fling myself into the heavens for some egomaniac.”
He stops to glare at me, and I know I’ve gone too far.
When he turns to leave again without saying another word, I try to stop him. “Wait, Jake. Don’t go.”
“Good-bye, Lace.”
“Fuck. No. Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
He stops and turns again. “You know what your problem is? You’re stuck in your own head. And I’m not talking about your stories. Your past and why you’re living this lie are totally bullshit. I’m not Michael. I’m not your father or that stupid fuck you lost your virginity to in high school. I’m Jake Moreau, and up until five minutes ago, I was convinced I was in love with you. Call me insecure, but, yeah, when I’m with a woman, I want to be her whole damn world, and I refuse to be punished for wanting so. Damn, you have so much to love, Lacey; it’s a shame you can’t even see it.”
“Jake—”
He keeps walking and then says over his shoulder, “Don’t come knocking on my door. I won’t be there.”
“Can’t you just—”
He slams the door in my face, stopping me suddenly. I place my palms on it and let the tears fall freely.
You don’t realize the power someone has over you until they leave you. I protected myself from getting hurt again, only to find my heart more broken than it’s ever been.
This is why I don’t do relationships. Every great romance has a breakup scene. In fiction, you can write about the couple getting back together. In the real world, they slam doors and hate each other.
I don’t need him, I
