incandescent (3.)

EVE OF IT ALL.

        I HAD SAID something wrong.

Roman stares back at me with an incredulous expression as I realize this, his fingers pulling apart from mine slowly. I open my mouth and close it again. It had betrayed me this night. We'd been perfectly content just moments ago before I opened it and ruined everything, though nothing I said had been false.

"Rome?" I repeat, his name coming out in a hushed whisper.

"You wanted to break up," he gets out, voice slow but firm. "What, if I hadn't been able to come and see you today, we'd be done?"

I sit on my knees, parting them until my hands are pressed on the bed between them. "Roman, you're overreacting."

"How?" he muses, staring at me with furrowed eyebrows. "What's changed exactly, Braylen? Hmm? What's to keep you from breaking up with me when I go back to Italy?"

Back to Italy. I felt like a fool. Of course. This holiday visit was just that—a visit. He wasn't back for good; nothing was fixed between us. Angry tears prick at the corner of my eyes. "You're not staying?" I whisper as my voice breaks.

Roman's face turns ashen. "Why would you think that I was?"

"I don't know," I murmur. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know, I guess I just hoped. That you coming home meant you didn't want to be apart any longer."

Roman bites his bottom lip. "I need to be there, Braylen."

"And what if I need you to be here?" I ask, eyebrows raising. I chuckle softly and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "This is ridiculous. This is exactly why I wanted to end it all in the first place."

Roman scoffs. "What, because I won't drop everything that I have for you? Can you not see how selfish you're being, asking me to stay?"

"I haven't asked anything of you, ever," I spit. "I didn't ask you to come home, I didn't ask you to do anything, but now I am asking because I can't keep going on like this. Roman, please."

He stands, pacing around the room. I can see the wheels turning in his head, see him weighing out the options. When he speaks, his words are rushed. "I never should have left."

"Don't do that," I hiss. "Don't fucking guilt trip me."

"I'm not," he yells back, crossing his arms. "God, Braylen, the night of your aunt's wedding, I asked you. I asked you to tell me that moving to Italy was a bad idea. I asked you to tell me to stay because I didn't want this to happen to us. You're the one who told me to go!"

I swallow hard. "Well, now I'm asking you to stay."

Roman brings a hand to his temple, massaging the area with two of his fingertips. "This is your problem, Braylen. You expect everything to be on your terms."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means," he hissed back, shaking his head. "We started to hook up because you wanted a distraction. We weren't in love until you decided we could be. And now, what? Now it's either I stay and do what you want me to do again or go and lose you forever? Those are my options?"

I stare back at him as tears stream down my face. "If you hold this much resentment toward me, then maybe—"

"Fuck! Braylen, I am trying to talk to you!" Roman shouts, crouching down before me. "Why are you acting like this is already over?"

I sniff solemnly, staring down at his beautiful eyes that were ablaze with anger but once light with joy. I'd ruined the light in his eyes just as I'd ruined this night.

I couldn't remember ever feeling this much pain in my life.

"Maybe it already is," I say quietly, voice hollow and broken.

We were on the eve of something, him and I. And I desperately wished I could go back in time and remedy whatever brought us here.