He looks up at me, letting the dog win the tug-of-war. Odin, likely sensing the charged atmosphere, comes to curl up at my feet, his weight heavy against my shin. I reach down, scratching behind his ear.
I think of all the conversations Edward and I have had over the last few weeks – deep discussions about politics and religion, light banter, even talks of family.
Everything but us.
Because I tried so goddamn hard for us not to be an issue.
But it's time. I can't handle this sidestepping anymore.
"What do you want from me?" I ask at last.
Monday, January 24, 2011
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Gotta lay it out there.
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