Could you stop for a minute and look at me?" He didn't. In a fit of frustration she decided to do what he asked. "Fine. You want some reasons why you shouldn't have kissed me and walked away? Uhm, maybe because I don't deserve for you to continue to treat me like crap! Maybe because it might have meant absolutely nothing to you, but it meant a whole hell of a lot to me! Maybe because you are the most selfish bastard I have ever met in my entire life, and I'm sick of your shit! Does that answer your question? Are those good enough reasons why not?"
She had his full attention now. He turned and looked at her, his arms crossed in front of him. She was crying again, tears of frustration, hurt, and anger streaming down her face.
"Are you finished?" he asked, that calm tone that was so very helpful in battle annoying the hell out of her now. She swiped absently at her tears, wishing to God that she could just stop crying over him. She nodded.
He didn't' say anything for a moment, prompting her to ask, "Why are you always so damn calm?"
He laughed then, shaking his head and focusing on the ground in front of his boots for a moment. "I'm not, Cadence," he said, though his tone seemed to prove otherwise. "That's why I kissed you. That was an emotional response to a stressful situation. It shouldn't have happened, and I'm sorry."
She considered his words, but she still found herself just as confused as she was before. "So, when you said you were sorry, is that what you were apologizing for?"
"No," he scoffed, shaking his head. "I was apologizing for the reason you wanted me to. I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I didn't believe you. I'm sorry that I chose Eliza over you, and I'm sorry there's nothing I can do to take any of those things back."
Cadence stared at him in amazement. She had been longing to hear those words for so many months. Now that she had, she realized he was right. It didn't really change anything. She nodded in acceptance and then silently pondered what needed to happen next. Despite hearing exactly what she had requested, she still felt burdened by the anguish she had carried around all that time. "I just... I don't understand how you just let me go.... You didn't ask me to stay..."
"You didn't let me," he reminded her.
Her eyes widened. She knew she had left without saying goodbye, but she was reluctant to let him off the hook so easily. "But before that, you knew I was leaving... you said I should go..."
"I wanted you to be happy."
"But I haven't been..."
"Then you should come home," he replied. Though his tone was still calm, there was a hint of longing and sadness in it as well.
"But... I can't..." she found herself saying, though she wasn't exactly sure why.
He sighed. "Then I don't know what to tell you, babe."
Suddenly, she was very aware of the gap between them. "I just feel like... sometimes... I mean, it's like you don't even care.
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
"Do you?"
"Care about you? Yes, of course. I always have."
The way the words came out, she wasn't sure she understood. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, hoping for some kind of clarification.
He sighed again and retreated a few steps until he was leaning against the plane. The symbolism was not lost on her. Yet, she was surprised by his response. "What did you wear to school the first day of your freshman year in high school?" he asked.
Cadence furrowed her brow in confusion. "What?" she asked.
"Your freshman year. What did you wear on
She had his full attention now. He turned and looked at her, his arms crossed in front of him. She was crying again, tears of frustration, hurt, and anger streaming down her face.
"Are you finished?" he asked, that calm tone that was so very helpful in battle annoying the hell out of her now. She swiped absently at her tears, wishing to God that she could just stop crying over him. She nodded.
He didn't' say anything for a moment, prompting her to ask, "Why are you always so damn calm?"
He laughed then, shaking his head and focusing on the ground in front of his boots for a moment. "I'm not, Cadence," he said, though his tone seemed to prove otherwise. "That's why I kissed you. That was an emotional response to a stressful situation. It shouldn't have happened, and I'm sorry."
She considered his words, but she still found herself just as confused as she was before. "So, when you said you were sorry, is that what you were apologizing for?"
"No," he scoffed, shaking his head. "I was apologizing for the reason you wanted me to. I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I didn't believe you. I'm sorry that I chose Eliza over you, and I'm sorry there's nothing I can do to take any of those things back."
Cadence stared at him in amazement. She had been longing to hear those words for so many months. Now that she had, she realized he was right. It didn't really change anything. She nodded in acceptance and then silently pondered what needed to happen next. Despite hearing exactly what she had requested, she still felt burdened by the anguish she had carried around all that time. "I just... I don't understand how you just let me go.... You didn't ask me to stay..."
"You didn't let me," he reminded her.
Her eyes widened. She knew she had left without saying goodbye, but she was reluctant to let him off the hook so easily. "But before that, you knew I was leaving... you said I should go..."
"I wanted you to be happy."
"But I haven't been..."
"Then you should come home," he replied. Though his tone was still calm, there was a hint of longing and sadness in it as well.
"But... I can't..." she found herself saying, though she wasn't exactly sure why.
He sighed. "Then I don't know what to tell you, babe."
Suddenly, she was very aware of the gap between them. "I just feel like... sometimes... I mean, it's like you don't even care.
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
"Do you?"
"Care about you? Yes, of course. I always have."
The way the words came out, she wasn't sure she understood. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, hoping for some kind of clarification.
He sighed again and retreated a few steps until he was leaning against the plane. The symbolism was not lost on her. Yet, she was surprised by his response. "What did you wear to school the first day of your freshman year in high school?" he asked.
Cadence furrowed her brow in confusion. "What?" she asked.
"Your freshman year. What did you wear on
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