The Rocky Road Pact

Chapter 34: Don't You Want Me?

Baby. 

One word he whispered in my ear. It should have meant something tender; something I'd wanted to hear for a long time. But it meant nothing. 

I felt nothing.

All through the fancy dinner, I'd picked at my pasta, I couldn't eat any of it. My stomach was tied up in knots thinking about Tommy; what had happened to him, where he was and what he was doing. Also, I was nervous about the night to come. A night I'd already planned, dreamed about and experienced; it was disappointing to say the least. That first night together at the beginning of summer in the hotel room seemed so long ago. I felt like a different person now, and I wasn't sure it was what I still wanted. 

Brandon didn't pick up on my mood, or lack of conversation and just went on about our perfect life together. I suddenly had a flashback to babysitting one night when the Rogers' were extra late. It was past one in the morning, I was tired and just wanted out of there. I remember the feeling of being trapped; of wanting to go home and not being able to. If I stayed with Brandon and we got married, would I have that same feeling?  Only, it wouldn't be just for a couple of hours; but for life. The thought was depressing and terrifying at the same time.

I let Brandon pay for dinner, I didn't even reach for my purse to offer to pay for my share and he didn't ask me. He led me upstairs to our beautiful room that he booked with his parents' blessing and credit card. Rose petals were spread all over in a heart shape on the bed, and a bottle of champagne sat on ice. It was everything I wanted just two months ago. Now, I just felt like running.

He took off his suit jacket and tossed it over a chair. He'd put on weight since I'd seen him, I noticed for the first time. Always long and lean, he was now a bit pudgier around the middle. That wasn't like him at all. I guess the "freshman 15" was a thing. It looked good on him, I always thought he was a bit scrawny before. 

Not like Tommy. He filled out his black tank tops and faded band shirts with ease, muscles bulging. I knew he had a makeshift gym set up in his aunt's garage and worked out all the time and it showed. I always felt safe with him, the few times w were out together. His imposing size never made her feel diminished, just knowing he could handle himself no matter what happened was a comfort. Now he was in trouble. And I didn't know where he was.

I remembered being home alone with Brandon one night watching Friday the 13th or Nightmare on Elm Street, I couldn't remember which. A sudden noise from inside the kitchen made us  jump. Coincidentally, just then the power went out. It was freaky, but I was the one to get the flashlight and march into the kitchen to check things out.  Brandon cowered in the living room. It was just a bag of garbage tied up and ready to go out that had fallen over, bottles clinking.

The thought came back to me then, and it was distasteful. What was I doing pledging my whole life to someone who wouldn't even put themselves between me and a homicidal killer? 

I wasn't. 

"Brandon, this isn't going to work."  

He stopped what he was doing, which was struggling to open the bottle of fizzy wine. I'm sure it wasn't real champagne, that stuff came right from France and I was pretty sure wasn't in his budget, despite promises of a lucrative job offer from his father after university.

"What, you don't like the room?"

I don't like any of it. It's all wrong.

I sat on the bed.

"I feel like maybe we got it right the first time. Or rather, you did when you dumped me at the beginning of the summer."

He winced, as if I said something hurtful. But that's what happened. I was never one to sugar coat things, a quality I liked about myself that I got from my Dad.

"Oh, you just feel that way because we've been apart over the summer. Have a drink, you'll feel differently after we've talked some more. That girl meant nothing to me, we're over."

I don't care, I thought. I really didn't; it was remarkable. 

"This has nothing to do with her. I just don't feel it anymore."

"Feel what?" He finally got the bottle open. The huge 'pop' splintered my already frazzled nerves. 

"Us. We don't click, Brandon. I don't think we ever did."

His mouth hung open in such a perfect O, it was almost comical.

"How can you say that when we've spent so much time together? We've spent years together, for crying out loud! How many adults can say that, people break up all the time after a few months over nothing and we stayed together all through high school, and back even farther than that!"

And it was a huge mistake.

I didn't know where this little voice was coming from inside my brain, but it was dropping truth bombs all over the place. How did I not see the wrongness of Brandon before, feel it?

Sighing, I said, "it's late and I'm tired. I appreciate all of...this. But I think it's best if we go our separate ways." I stood up and grabbed my purse. 

"You're not going anywhere." 

His voice changed. It wasn't the Brandon I always knew; this was something different. Someone different. There was an edge of desperation to him that I hadn't seen before.

"Excuse me?"

"You're going to have a glass of wine and sit down and we're going to talk this out. We're meant to be together. This has to work. It has to!"

"What are you talking about? I'm going!"

He beat me to the door and before I could stop him, locked it.

"Just listen. Please."