“Can’t do this,” he said.
I sat up and looked at Anson. He was focused on the trees covering the sky above us. His jaw was clenched, his hands fisted.
He was pissed at me, and I knew he didn’t want to talk but at the same time I felt like he did. “Can’t do what?”
His eyes stayed on the sky. “Told myself to use…you like you…did me. Thought I could pretend…that you were nothing…to me. But can’t.” He looked at me. “Like you still. Can’t
A wave of self-loathing washed over me. “Anson, you have every right to hate me.”
My stomach fluttered hearing that he still cared. My own feelings for him were a jumbled mess of fucked-up, and maybe I’d figure them out soon. My head repeatedly reminded me of what Anson was but my heart refused to slow down when he was near.
Anson got to his feet and put his pants back on. I did the same. Should I tell him that, even though my plan was supposed to be emotionless, the exact opposite happened? Would he even believe me or think I was using him again? I couldn’t stop the nagging inside me. If I said anything more it would make it harder on Anson. I’d done enough damage. He held out his hand for me. “We need to…get you to safe…place.”
“You don’t have to.”
He smiled. “Want to. Die happy knowing…you safe.”
I didn’t want to take away what could be his last wish. We hooked hands and started back on our path.