True believer - Nicholas Sparks [115]
“Can you even hear how ridiculous you sound?” She leaned over the desk, face flushed.
“Hey, I’m just trying to figure out why I was brought down here in the first place.”
She raised her hands, as if trying to stop him. “I don’t want to hear this.”
“I’ll bet you don’t.”
“Just get out,” she said, shoving the can of furniture polish into her desk drawer. “You don’t belong here and I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Go back to where you came from.”
He crossed his arms. “At least you finally admitted what you’ve been thinking all day.”
“Oh, now you’re a mind reader?”
“No. But I don’t have to read minds to understand why you’ve been acting the way you are.”
“Well, then, let me read your mind, okay?” she hissed, tired of his superior attitude, tired of him. “Let me tell you what I see, okay?” She knew her voice was loud enough for the entire library to hear, but she didn’t care. “I see someone who’s really good at saying the right things, but when push comes to shove, doesn’t mean a thing he says.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
She started across the room, anger stiffening every muscle in her body.
“What? You don’t think I know how you really feel about our town? That it’s nothing more than a stop on the highway? Or that deep down, you can’t understand why anyone would live here? And that, no matter what you said last night, the thought that you might live here is ridiculous?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to!” she shouted, hating the smug way he sounded. “That’s the point. When I was talking about sacrifice, I knew full well that you thought I should be the one to uproot. That I should leave my family, my friends, my home, because New York is so much better. That I should be the good little woman who follows her man wherever he thinks we should be. The thought never even crossed your mind that you’d be the one to leave.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“I am, huh? About what? Expecting me to be the one to leave? Or were you planning to pick up a real estate guide on your way out of town tomorrow? Here, let me make it easier for you,” she said, reaching for the phone. “Mrs. Reynolds has her office across the street, and I’m sure she’d be delighted to walk you through a couple of houses tonight if you’re in the market for something.”
Jeremy simply stared at her, unable to deny her accusations.
“Nothing to say?” she demanded, slamming the phone back down. “Cat got your tongue? Then tell me this instead. What did you mean exactly when you said that we’d find a way to make it work? Did you think I was interested in waiting around for you to visit every now and then for a quick roll in the sack, without the possibility of a future together? Or were you thinking of using those visits to convince me of the error of my ways, since you think I’m wasting my life here and would be so much happier tagging along in your life?”
The anger and pain in her voice were unmistakable; so was the meaning behind what she was saying. For a long time, neither of them said anything.
“Why didn’t you say any of this last night?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.
“I tried,” she said. “It’s just that you didn’t want to listen.”
“Then why . . . ?”
He let the question hang, the implication clear.
“I don’t know.” She looked away. “You’re a nice guy, we had a couple of good days. Maybe I was just in the mood.”
He stared at her. “Is that all it meant to you?” he asked.
“No,” she admitted, seeing the pain in his expression. “Not last night. But it doesn’t change the fact that it’s over, does it?”
“So you’re pulling away?”
“No,” she said. To her dismay, she felt tears begin to well in her eyes. “Don’t put this on me. You’re the one who’s leaving. You came into my world. It wasn’t the other way around. I was content until you arrived. Maybe not perfectly happy, maybe a little lonely, but content. I like my life here. I like being able to check on Doris if she isn’t having a good day.