15. Tacos and Tears

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I thought he'd be thrilled, but the look on his face says otherwise. I had bought him a set of tickets to a boxing match this weekend in Chicago. He had a secret love for boxing that he didn't share with any other sport. So I figured he'd be thrilled by my gift to him—a gift I paid for with my very own, hard-earned cash.

His lips twitch, something close to astonishment glinting in his grass-tinted eyes. He peers down at the tickets in his hands and then back up at me, and then repeats the process. He's utterly speechless, and I'm assuming that's a good thing. But when I reveal the second half of my gift, something changes. I watch as a hint of warmth slipped from his expression.

"I thought you could meet Jamison in Chicago, and the two of you could spend the weekend doing bro stuff," I explain. But I lose momentum with my excitement when his face slowly falls.

I said something wrong. I know it. He was halfway to happy with the news at first, but somehow, I'd just ruined it, and I have no clue as to why. I'm aware he's not the biggest fan of Chicago. He doesn't like the hectic lifestyle or the pushy pedestrians, but I never thought it'd keep him away from watching a pro-boxing match.

"You and Jamison are still close, right?" I find myself asking, fearing that something had died in their relationship. They used to keep in touch constantly, but over the years, communication has become sparse.

Seth must see something close to panic on my face because I watch his expression soften—if only slightly.

"No, no, we're good." He tilts his head down, peering at the tickets between his fingers for a moment before glancing back up. "This is great. Thank you." A smile touches his lips, but it's lacking sincerity.

I suddenly regret everything about this decision. He's clearly not happy with the gift, and I'm wondering if it's due to his exhaustion. Surely he doesn't hate Chicago enough to miss a match like this. Maybe work is more hectic than he's letting on. Weekends are his only opportunity to catch up on anything—sleep included—and I just booked his entire weekend solid.

Good going, Merc.

I'm tempted to take back the gift and apologize for my thoughtlessness, but then I realize that I know Seth better than that. He doesn't mince his words. He says what he means—or he used to. Right now I'm not so sure, but I refuse to test my assumptions. He used to hate it when I second-guessed him. So, instead of badgering him on whether he's sure he really wants to go, I just let it be. He's a big boy. He could've said no if he really didn't want to go.

"Well, I already contacted Jamison to see if he was free this weekend," I tell Seth. "I didn't mention anything else though, so I'll leave that up to you."

Seth just nods, so I continue, "I'll take you to the airport, and Jamison will pick you up at O'Hare. From there you're on your own." I smile, clamping my hands together as a sign that I'm finished speaking.

"Sounds perfect," he says, shooting me another quick smile.

"Your acting skills have gone downhill," I tell him, half teasing and half serious. "Even if you're not over the moon about it right now, I hope you still have fun. You deserve some time off."

His eyes shoot to mine, an inquisitive heat radiating from his gaze.

"I do?" he asks, clearly stunned by my statement.

"Well, yeah," I tell him. "I mean, you work all day and into the night with these client dinners. I'd say you've earned a little time to yourself."

"Oh." His face falls. "Right."

And just like that, my guts are a twisted heap of angry unease. He didn't sound all that confident in his response, and I can only come up with one reason as to why...

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