Nine-tenths of the Law

“I called to tell you I’d be working late, didn’t I?”

“Fu

My blood turned to ice. “So you did come down to see if I was lying.” It wasn’t a question.

“What did you expect me to do?”

“Oh, gee, let me think about this,” I snapped. “I don’t know, maybe…trust me? For once?”

“So I’m supposed to just ignore the things that seem suspiciously similar to things he did?”

“Are you accusing me of being like him?” My temper boiled just beneath the surface and it took everything I had to keep it in check. “Maybe you’ve forgotten, Nathan, but he didn’t just cheat on you, he cheated with you.”

“So since you’ve been through it, too, you of all people have got to understand why I’m so fucking paranoid about it.”

“Nathan, I wouldn’t cheat on you,” I said, my voice wavering. “And I wouldn’t lie to you. We’ve been through this. I have a business to run. Long hours happen, no matter how much of a cheating bastard our ex was.” I shrugged apologetically. “It can’t be helped.”

He was silent, looking at me but not speaking. I wasn’t sure if he was contemplating his next move or waiting for me to continue.

I searched his eyes for…something. Anything. Just as I did every fucking time we argued, when I’d defended myself and done everything I could to convince him that he could trust me. And yet wasn’t I the one who’d had reason to call his trust into question tonight?

But there I was, defending myself. Again. As always.

Even after I thought we’d come a long, long way the other night. I thought things had changed. But still he didn’t trust me, and once again I’d gone from the accuser to the accused.

I let out a breath and dropped my gaze, grinding my teeth as anger swelled in my chest. I’d been patient. I’d bent over backward to prove to him that I was trustworthy, even though I’d never given him a reason to doubt me in the first place.

But now I was tired.

Tired of fighting.

Tired of being on trial.

In fact, I was exhausted, and in that moment, I realized that this wasn’t how a relationship should be. I loved him more than I could even tell him, but I couldn’t make him trust me, and after trying to do just that for all this time, I was fucking exhausted.

I shook my head. “I can’t do this.”

Nathan blinked. “What?”

“This.”

“This? What do you mean?”

I gestured at him, then myself. “All of it. Us. This fighting, this-” I shrugged, shaking my head again. “I’ve done everything I can, but you refuse to trust me. I don’t know what you want from me, Nathan.”

Something straightened his posture, his shoulders tensing and eyebrows lifting as if in alarm. “Zach, what are-”

“You don’t trust me,” I said. “And I can’t make you.”

“You know I-”

I put a hand up. “We’ve been through this. We’ve been through this too many goddamned times.” I let out a long breath. “I’ve apologized for what happened with Jake even though I was as much a victim as you. I can’t make you trust me, but I can’t stay in this relationship if it’s nothing more than one long apology for a crime I didn’t commit.”

“That isn’t true. It’s not, you’re not.” He paused, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” I shifted my weight. “You waited outside the theatre tonight. Why? Because you wanted to see me, or because you wanted to see who I was with? See if I was even there?”

He dropped his gaze, swallowing hard. For a long moment, he was silent, chewing his lip. A lump rose in my throat even as anger swelled in my chest. I wanted this to work, but I couldn’t keep giving, giving, giving, if he wouldn’t take it from me, and I hated him then for not taking it.

As much as it hurt, I had to walk away from this. I’d given him everything I had, and there was nothing left for me.

I picked up my jacket. “I’m sorry, I-” I stopped myself. “I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for this time.”

“Zach, wait.” He touched my arm. Didn’t grab it, didn’t try to hold on to me, just touched me. Trying to bridge a divide that wasn’t going to get any narrower.

“I have waited.” The ice in my voice hid the ache in my throat. “And I’m done. If you don’t trust me, there’s no reason for me to stay.” I swallowed hard. “What was it you said the night we met? That possession is nine-tenths of the law?”

“Yeah,” he said, ru

“I’ve given you that much. And more.” I willed my voice not to crack. In spite of the cold façade I showed him, this hurt more than anything had ever hurt before. “But you won’t give anything in return. If possession is nine-tenths of the law, then I have the same thing I had that night.” I shrugged enough to pull my arm away from his hand. “Nothing.”

“That’s not true,” he said quickly. “You know it’s not true.”

“No, I don’t know that.” I took a step back, separating us a little more. “I don’t know if you’re still angry because of what happened with Jake, or if you still want him or-”

“I do not want him,” he said, his voice sharp.

“Then what do you want?”

“I want you.” The sharpness left his voice and he was closer to pleading now. “Don’t go.”

“What reason do I have to stay?” I said. “Time and time again, we go through this same bullshit and I…” I shook my head again. “I just can’t. I don’t want to own you, but I need a bit more than a tenth.”

“You have more than that,” he said quickly.

“Do I?” I said through my teeth.

He took a breath. Swallowed hard. “Please…”

I shook my head and took another step. Now I was closer to the door than I was to him. I had to go. If I didn’t leave soon-now-he might convince me to stay. This had to end before I lost the will to end it.

“Zach,” he said, his voice cracking with what I assumed to be desperation. “Please, stay. Let’s talk. Please…”

“No.” I put my hand on the doorknob. Something in his eyes, in the sharp upward flick of his eyebrows, bade me to continue, but it was all I could say. Maybe it was cold and callous, but so be it. There was nothing more I could say without either hurting him more than I already had, or giving him more opportunity to beg me to stay. And stay I would if he pleaded enough, so the less that was said, the better.

“Don’t go,” he said in a hoarse whisper. I wondered if his voice was as close to cracking as mine. “You’re the one I want, not him.”

“You want me?” I didn’t want the anger to seep into my voice, but it was either that or let him know how close I was to tears. Anger won. “You say you want me, but I can’t figure out how else to show you that you have me. I give you every reason to believe you can trust me, and you don’t. I’ve given you every bit of myself, and the only things I’ve ever wanted in return are your trust and-” I stopped myself. If I went there, if I told him that all I wanted was his love, I’d fall apart.

“Zach-”

I put my hand up. “I’ve given you everything I can think to give, done everything I can think to do, and you won’t take it.” I swallowed hard, willing my composure not to fail me now. “I’m tired of holding on, so what else can I do but let go?” I opened the door, looked at him one last time and said the words I was tired of saying but seemed to be the only thing I could muster just then:

“I’m sorry, Nathan.”

He started to speak, but the click of the closing door cut off the sound. My knees threatened to give out as I headed down the porch steps, and I murmured a prayer over the sound of my thundering heart that the door didn’t open again. I’d walked away from him. I didn’t know if I could do it again.

The door didn’t open. I made it to my car, breathing a sigh of relief even as my throat ached with emotion.