TMI (2014 Collector's Dream Winner)

TMI - Chapter 23

Meg hurried out of the house before her tears drowned her. She hadn't touched the last step off the porch before Chase called her.

"Megan, wait!"

Meg huddled deeper into her hoodie and kept walking, frustration adding a strut to her stride. Why, why did Bailey say that?

“Leave me alone, Chase.”

“No! What the hell happened back there?”

Meg pressed her lips together and Chase cursed.

“Okay, I get that you and Bailey have secrets, but what she said hit you hard. I can see it. Tell me why.”

Meg whipped around. "I can't, don't you get that?"

But of course, he didn't.

"Well, explain it to me, then!" He grabbed her by the arms, held her in place to glare at her with glittering eyes.

The breath stuck in her chest while Meg stared up at him. The Want, oh, God, the Want was back. It whispered in her ear that one kiss hadn't killed her, so why not take another? The last time he'd been this close to her, she wondered when he'd gotten so tall… so strong. His hands on her pulled her closer, his grip tightening almost painfully. His eyes lowered to her mouth and darkened as he pulled her even closer. Meg didn't want to stop him.

But she would.

She had to.

She took a step back. Stopped looking into charmed eyes. That was the key… never look him in the eyes. Chase-charmed. She might have laughed if her heart didn’t hurt so much.

"Stop it, Megan!" Chase raked his hands through his hair and then closed the gap between them to get in her face. "Just stop. You want me. I know you do. So why the hell aren’t you with me?"

She stepped around him, strode to the opposite side of the street. "It's not that simple, Chase."

"Oh, it's exactly that simple." He sprinted and caught her by the elbow, spun her around to grab her shoulders. "Just tell me why. Why am I not good enough for you?" He shouted, gave her a little shake. "Do you want Simon's millions?" His face changed into something else -- something mean and foul. "Or maybe you want Ryder. You like Bailey’s guy, don't you? All that concern and worry, that was just a show, right? You want him so you can talk art."

Shock dropped her jaw. Anger reddened her vision. But it was pure fury that brought her hands up to shove him.

They stood on the street glaring at each other. He lowered his hand, tugged down his hoodie and drew himself up to his full height. He raised wounded green eyes to hers and shook his head.

“Here.” He tossed a brochure at her. She fumbled and it fell to the ground. “I saw this at the museum and grabbed it for you because I thought —” Abruptly, he snapped his teeth together. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter what I thought. I'm done, Megan." He shook his head again. "I'm… I've given you time and space and— and — all the patience I could squeeze out but, shit! It's not enough. It's never enough." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "You said you're scared, but you won't tell me why. You tell me you're worried about Bailey, but you won't tell me why. For God's sake, I see you stabbing a picture of your own father, but you still won't tell me why. I'm sick of it, Meg. Don’t you understand? Don’t you get it yet? I love you!”

A car went by. The beam from its headlights caught Chase straight on. “Fuck,” he muttered and turned away.

Too stunned to say anything, Meg watched him take two steps before he spun back to shout in her face.

“Maybe you don’t feel the same way, but I know you feel something. I know it! Call me when you can face it without freaking out." He turned and stalked away. This time, he did not look back.

Meg let him go.

It was what she wanted. She told herself that over and over, but watching him walk away cut a hole through her as big as the one her father left. She bent to pick up the brochure he’d thrown at her.

The Cooper Union.

She ran down the street and up the path to her dark and empty house and up the stairs to her dark and empty room. She flung herself on her bed — the brochure gripped tightly in her hand — and let the tears drown her.

I love you, he'd said.

I love you. That was never supposed to happen.

I love you. She’d done everything possible to ensure her life had no room for love. She never wanted the mess. The pain. And yet…

Yet, her life was a painful mess. She’d stayed away, stayed uninvolved. But he loved her anyway and damn if that didn’t change everything. She folded up and sobbed, pounded a fist into the pillow. How had she so thoroughly screwed up everything? She grabbed the pillow, curled around it, and cried for what might have been. Her hand brushed the paper she kept under it.

Chase's sketch.

Pain speared her and she had her phone out, seconds away from calling him, begging his forgiveness, when sanity managed to claw its way to the top of her tortured mind. It buzzed once — a text from Mom. She didn’t bother to read it.

This was what she'd wanted. She hadn't wanted to hurt Chase, never that. But she’d decided her future and that included career goals and never having to answer to anyone or be responsible for anyone but herself. She would never be a burden on him, as she'd been to her mother… and to her father, before he'd checked out.

 And Bailey knew all that. Knew it and still made her question why.