Page 12 of To Regret a Raven

“I don’t think we should continue dating.”

He could see it in her expression already; the metaphorical wheels turning in her mind as the shock of his announcement faded and reality settled in.

He reached across the console and grabbed her left hand, gripping it like he would a lifesaver while adrift in the sea. “You’re so amazing and sweet and kind. You’re the best person I know. But you deserve more than me. More than I can offer you.”

With that, her eyes finally returned, the blue sharp and cold, like the jagged edge of broken ice.

“I don’t need you toofferme anything, Fisher…”

He was already shaking his head before she finished, his mouth twisted in a grim line as he realized where her mindhad gone. How he wished it were as simple a matter as his career. If that were the case, he would go to the ends of the earth to find a job that she considered worthy. He’d walk away from his life in a heartbeat. He’d climb that corporate ladder, do an apprenticeship—hell, he’d go back to school if he thought it would make Drie happy. His job was nothing more than that: a damn job.

“I can take care of myself,” she finished.

He fought the scoff that rose in his throat. He was well aware of the fact that she didn’tneedhim. Drie was a natural leader. Motivated. Brilliant. The only thing he brought to her table was his company, and yet…she’d considered it worth keeping. It was a point that had plagued him relentlessly the night prior: his existence in her world was unnecessary. At her whim.

“That’s not what I meant,” he whispered, hating the words, hating the conversation, hating himself.

“I hope you know that I don’t care where you work. You could pick up trash for a living, and I would think that’s noble. I love you for who you?—”

“Stop!” he shouted, slamming his eyes shut as he turned away. His forehead thumped against the steering wheel, the ache a welcome reprieve. He couldn’t bear hearing them again—those perfect, cursed words. Drie jerked her hand free, and Fisher let her go, the echo of her touch making his fingers clench around empty air.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, his chest heaving as he sucked down oxygen. His head began to spin, but he forced himself to look at her. To look her in the eyes when he told her the truth. “I know those things already. You’re misunderstanding me.”

Her brow furrowed as she stared at him. And then through him. She’d always been so casually transparent, so unproblematic, that he’d become a walking, talking masterclass at reading her cues in no time.

Watching her then, as she put the pieces together, was how he imagined it must feel to see your life flash before your eyes. But instead of being at the end of a long life, watching it replay as he welcomed death, Fisher found himself standing at the start and watching as thepotentiallife—the beautiful, joyous, peaceful life he could’ve had with Drie—died a painful, pointless death before his very eyes.

Understanding darkened her expression, and heat gathered behind Fisher’s eyes as he watched her heart break in real time. He would have thought his was breaking right alongside hers, but that would have required the presence of an actual fucking heart in the first place, rather than the treacherous disgrace of an organ beating within his chest cavity.

“You don’t love me,” she said aloud. It wasn’t a question.

He ground his molars, sucking in a swift breath through his nose. Fisher was not about to fucking cry—he had no right. He shook his head jerkily.

“And you don’t believe you ever will.”

He wanted to lie. The words were already primed and ready to go.No. I’ll find a way. I’ll wait forever.

But then his eyes slid to her apartment building, and he remembered all the nights they’d spent together.

Fisher had been told his entire life that love was powerful. He’d seen it firsthand, with his parents, his cousins, and his aunts and uncles. It was meant to hit you like a freight train. To consume you, body and mind. It was supposed to make you crazy. Make you want to fight a war. Make you rage with jealousy in one moment and then elope to Vegas in the next.

But life with Drie was the opposite of all that. From the first moment he’d seen her, even when he’d been a bumbling fool, her presence had brought him nothing but peace. He didn’t feel threatened by other men because she was a safe place. She was security and loyalty and all the best things a person could be.Drie didn’t make him think about doing crazy things. She just made him want to do pointless, boring things, like watching movies until they both passed out on the couch or sitting by her side with a laptop, searching the internet for new recipes to try, and debating ingredients as they made a grocery list for date night.

All that time they had shared one-on-one.Six monthsof dating. He’d had so long, had already stolen so much of her life, and he couldn’t lead her on forever.

“Say it,” she snapped, making him jump.

He met her eyes. “No. I don’t think I will. And I can’t listen to you keep saying those words to me when I can’t say them back.”

Drie breathed in, long and slow, and with the exhale, she nodded. “Alright.”

But when she reached for the handle, Fisher lunged, snagging her hand before she could leave. “Listen to me, Drie. You are truly,trulymy best friend. This iskillingme.”

She scoffed, and the noise, the disbelief, tore at him.But why should she believe me?All this time, she thought they were moving forward, while he kept his secrets.

Despite this, he couldn’t help but make his plea. “I don’t want to lose you completely, but I couldn’t keep us going this way. It’s unfair to you. And I know it’s something people say all the time and don’t mean, but Idomean it. I am your friend, always, and I hope you will still be mine.”

“What you’re asking is unfair,” she whispered.