“Sure.” I get up and give her a hug, ignoring the fact that she’s mad at me for not letting her interrogate Tanner. As much as I love her, it’s not her place. “Call me tomorrow and let me know when you’re going to the hospital, and I’ll go with you or meet you there.”
“All right.” She stoops to kiss Earl’s cheek, then waves at Tanner before heading for her car.
“She’s just protective of you,” Earl says, and I pull my eyes off Jade’s car as she drives down my lane and focus on him. “And my guess is she’s scared you’re going to move away.”
“I know.” I sigh, watching him get up.
“Do you want me to help you clean up?”
“No, there isn’t much to do,” I assure him, and he comes over to give me a hug, then pats Tanner’s shoulder before wandering to his truck and getting in. When he drives off, I look at Tanner and wait for him to say something—anything—but he doesn’t.
Annoyed, or maybe hurt by his lack of communication, I pick up the glasses on the table and take them inside, then start to go back out to get the rest of the dishes, but Tanner walks in with them. “Thanks.” I take them from him and put everything into the dishwasher while he stands with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the counter.
“Cybil.”
“Yeah?” I wait for him to say something, but instead, he shakes his head.
“Nothing, never mind.”
“Right.” I grab a couple of Tylenols for the headache I feel coming on and swallow them down, with Tanner watching me. “I think I’m going to head to bed early and maybe watch some TV.”
“I’ll meet you in there in a bit. I’m gonna make a couple of phone calls,” he says, and I nod, then go down the hall to my room, where I change into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, brush my teeth, and get into bed.
With the TV on, I lie in the dark, trying to figure out what to do. I feel like this whole thing with him and his job is hanging over our relationship, and with him not wanting to talk to me about it, I can only assume I’m somehow responsible for what went down.
“Screw this.” I toss back the covers and get out of bed, deciding that one way or another, I’m going to get him to open up. After grabbing my sweater, I open the door and start to head down the hall but stop when I hear him talking to someone.
“You think I like this any more than you, man? Fuck! You of all people know that starting Live Life was a dream for me, but I won’t choose between Cybil and that.” He pauses as I get closer, and I know I should make my presence known, but my mouth has gone dry. “I don’t give a fuck. That’s on him; that’s not on me. He needs to get his shit together.” Another long pause. “Right, well, let me know what the lawyer says, and we’ll talk after that. Later, brother.” He hangs up and turns toward me, putting his cell phone into his pocket.
As his haunted gaze meets mine, my stomach rolls and my legs start to feel weak. “You’re selling because of me.” I knew that, or I thought I did, but having it confirmed feels like a knife to the gut.
“Not just you.”
“Really?” I tip my head to the side while wrapping my arms around my waist. “So if we didn’t meet, you were planning on offering up your portion to Blake and Maverick?”
“No.”
His simple answers to my questions make me want to shake him.
“So, what is it? Are you selling because of me, or because you decided that it’s no longer your dream and you now want to be on the first trip to Mars?”
“Don’t be a smart-ass, Cybil.”
“Don’t be a liar, Tanner.” I shake my head, realizing everything that’s against us and all he would be giving up because of me. I know he might think he’s made the right decision now, but in a week, a month, or a few years, he’s going to end up resenting me. I just can’t stand the thought of that. I mean, look what happened with Galvin, who was living a lie and dragging me along for a ride I didn’t know I was on. And in the end I was the one who got hurt. “I can’t do this.”
“What?” He takes a step toward me, and I hold up my hand to ward him off.
“I mean, I can’t do this. I don’t know what I was thinking, or maybe I wasn’t thinking.” I want to shove the words back in my mouth as soon as they’re out, but I need to end this before it’s too late, before he throws away everything he’s worked for, and before I fall any deeper in love with him. Shit, I love him—the realization makes my chest hurt and the lie I spit out taste bitter. “We don’t work. This”—I motion between us—“is never going to work.”