The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 50 - Kiss of Death

When he pulls away from me his eyes are closed and his heart is open, bare, destroyed. 

I know why he left. 

And I know why he came back every single time.

I step away from him, slowly at first, until my brain catches up with reality and the panic sets in. Out of all the reasons I have ever given myself to stay away from Jeremy James Cordina, I never thought it would be this. I never, in a million years, would have thought that he was the one who needed protecting.

He was right. We had to worry about tomorrow. Suddenly, Doomsday was lingering in the air. What the hell did I do?

I march towards my bags before I change my mind.

"What are you doing?" he asks warily.

"I'm sorry. This was a mistake," I reply, hastily turning back for my phone and keys.

"Where are you going?" He runs for the door and plants himself between me and my way out.

"I don't know. But I can't stay here!"

I'm panicking. My heart is racing and my breaths are short and shallow. 

"Why not?"

"Because I'm going to fuck everything up if I do!" I yell.

"I thought you didn't care," he says, the bitterness in his voice cutting through my flesh like a sharpened knife.

"That was before I realised that you do! Why didn't you tell me? Why did you let me think you didn't give a shit about me?"

Hurt flashes across his eyes as his brows come closer together. "Is that really what you thought?"

"Isn't it what you wanted me to think?"

"No! Well, yes, at first but... It doesn't matter, Ally. What I feel doesn't matter because you can't... We can't do anything about it anyway."

My eyes widen and my jaw drops. All the chaos in my head is refocused into one solid emotion. 

Rage.

"You have got to be joking! Get the fuck out of the way, Jeremy!"

"Where are you going? You don't have anywhere to go." 

"I'll rent an apartment," I snap back. 

"With what money?" he says, a little too condescendingly for my liking. But I hear the urgency in his voice and see it in his eyes as he forces a calming breath. With a softer tone that almost verges on pleading, he adds, "Stay here."

"I can't!"

How the hell can he expect me to stay in the same house with him after that kiss?

He looks at me and I can see his brain working, searching for a way to fix this, ignoring his own feelings to devise a plan that will save me like he always does. Like he's been doing all along without me even knowing. 

But this isn't the same as fixing an appointment or booking a class. This is him and the feelings that terrify him and me and my mess and our history and us. This is us and all our fucked up flaws are coming to light. We can't be in the same house and tiptoe around it like it's nothing.

Because this is not nothing no matter what he says.

"Look, there's a lock on the bedroom door. It has an ensuite and everything. I'll sleep in my study. I normally bury myself there all day anyway. I'll make space for your own stuff in the fridge and if that's not enough distance from each other, just tell me. I can go out to the gym or for coffee or wherever. You won't know I'm here. I'm not letting you leave. We're family before anything else, remember? No matter what, Ally! No matter what I feel or what you feel! I promised Millie I'd take care of you!"