sign {h.s.}

capítulo cincuenta y dos

n. we have the four (4) girlies who responded to my post to thank for the drama that is about to happen

"No," the word flies out of my mouth before I even have a chance to really consider Connor's offer. 

"No?" 

"No! It's—that's—no, it's just no," I stumble over my words, suddenly unable to adequately express my thoughts. It is one thing for me to go on a date and miss Harry. That was would be expected. It is not like I fell out of love with him. All that happened is we had a disagreement on the future of our relationship. There was nothing that changed in my feelings towards him. Naturally I would miss him when I spend time with another man. But, taking the first change that I can get to go out and see him feels like jumping the gun. It feels like I am telling him one thing—to experience time apart so we can honestly make the decision whether or not we are better off together or apart—and then I completely disregard my own advice. "No," I repeat more adamantly, crossing my arms over my chest; immediately feeling more sobered up.

"Tell me why," my brother prods, clearly not understanding my obvious aversion towards his brilliant idea. 

I give him credit. Not many brothers would willingly offer to embark on a six hour car ride with their sister in the middle of the night. Much less to drop her off at her sister's sort-of-ex-boyfriend's mother's house in the middle of the night, only to turn around and make the exact same journey home. I do clearly see the effort he is making in order to help me return to my former state of happiness. It's obvious, apparently, how much happier I am when I am with Harry.

"I told him that I wanted time apart. He is respecting that. I have to respect it, too," I explain, turning away from the window to face my brother head on. He purses his lips, clearly upset with my explanation. Unsatisfied, obviously, I can tell he was hoping for a better answer from me. 

On some sort of level, I think that I want a better answer from me. I want it to be easy. I want Connor to drive me to Philadelphia right now and I want to show up at Harry's door and tell him I don't care. I don't care. I don't care about the kids I don't care about the marriage. I care about him.

But that is not entirely true.

Nor is it fair. "Bullshit," Connor accuses, shaking his head as he makes no effort to switch lanes in order to get us back to our house in Hingham. Hellbent on arriving to Philadelphia, he maintains his course. My opinion be damned. "You love him. It's that simple."

"Nothing about our situation is simple."

"Bullshit."

"What the fuck do you know about it?" I spit back, growing annoyed with him as I reach over him, attempting to yank the wheel in the direction of the nearest exit, attempting to turn us around. Aggressively, he shrugs me off, giving me a harsh look as he swats me away.

"Don't fucking do that," he raises his voice at me, anger evident in his face. "There are other people on this road. You could have just killed us both because you are too damn stubborn to admit when you are wrong. Don't fucking do that again." 

Silence fills the space between the two of us as we both attempt to calm ourselves down. Reckless as I had been, I don't entirely regret my actions. Hardly anyone else is on the road, and I hadn't been too severe in my actions. Connor still had complete control of the car. We both knew it. I think he is just angry at the potential of a negative consequence. Admittedly, I will admit I feel for his nerves on the matter. 

"Turn the car around." I finally say, breaking the silence. My voice is slightly shaky which angers me. I had worked hard to keep it steady. I had worked hard to maintain the fierce tone I had employed when I ran the words over in my head.