Page 128 of When In Doubt

“Oscar.”

“I’m crazy about you, I think I’ve been pretty clear about that. I’ve been crazy about you for almost my entire life, and that’s not about to stop.” I stumble back half a step. He’s told me about his feelings before, but this is all so intense. “I’ll keep showing up for you until you tell me to go away, that’s just how I’m built. So, if that’s what you want, if you want me to go, then you have to be the one to do it. If you don’t see this lasting, if you don’t think you’ll ever be able to let me in, to be all in with me the way I am with you, then you have to let me know. Have some fucking mercy on me, because if we carry on, if I get more of you, only for you to take it away later, it’d just hurt too much.” His voice is hoarse as he croaks out the end of his speech. “I don’t think I could take it.”

I feel dizzy, like I can’t get enough air in. There’s so much that I need to process, and I don’t know how to even start.

“I just…” I flounder. “I can’t read people the way you can.”

“Freya,” he whispers, pulling me into him, “you don’t need to read my mind. I’m telling you exactly what I’m thinking.”

We stand there, like two people clinging to a life raft in the middle of a storm. Oscar’s warm breath ghosts over my face as he runs his knuckles up and down my arm, the motion doing little to soothe the roiling in my gut. I can hardly think, can’t even begin to start piecing together everything he said, all the ways I’m feeling about it. I’m just so tired, and all I want to do in stay in this moment, safe in Oscar’s arms.

“Okay.” He sighs, pulling back and taking my face in his hands. One of his fingers drifts down to tangle in a strand of my hair. He watches the motion and I have the awful sensation that he’s saying goodbye. “I’m gonna walk you home, then I’m going to head back to my place.”

“You’re leaving?” My voice cracks.

“Yeah, I think we both need some space.”

“Wait, Oscar.” I don’t want him to go, to walk away hating me.

“It’s okay, honey.” He strokes my jaw. “I think we just need to cool off for a couple days and figure some stuff out. I don’t want to put any pressure on you.”

“But, I⁠—”

“I’ll call you this weekend, unless we’ve spoken sooner. I’m not ditching you. This isn’t over, we just need to get our heads on straight before we talk this out properly.”

He’s probably right, but I can’t help the feeling that I’ve messed this all up. It’s not fair to push him away when he’s done nothing to deserve it. I need to process everything that’s happening before I’m able to give him the answer he wants.

“Alright.” My voice comes out weaker than I’d like. “This weekend.”

It only takes us a few minutes to make the walk back to my apartment. We don’t talk, but Oscar holds my hand the whole way, giving me a squeeze every now and then, like he’s checking I’m still there.

At the bottom of my steps, he turns to me.

“This weekend,” he whispers. He drops a final kiss to my forehead, gives me a soft smile, and then he’s gone, stepping out of the pool of light emitted by the security light and disappearing into the night.

Chapter Forty-One

OSCAR

Small fingers push at the corners of my mouth. I crack an eye open to see the frowning face of a three-year-old hovering over me.

“You have a grumpy face when you’re sleeping,” Birdie whispers.

“Bird,” I hear Mack call through from the kitchen. “I said we were going to let Oscar sleep.”

“I’m whispering!” she yells, making me wince.

“Thanks, Birdie,” I groan. I go to sit up, but her weight on my chest stops me. Blinking myself fully awake, I’m able to take in the scene. I’m lying on Mack and Joni’s couch, where I crashed last night after knocking on their door. Birdie’s sitting on my chest, which means I must have really been out if I didn’t wake up at her climbing on, or heard the TV playing cartoons. “How long have you been there?”

She blinks at me like I’m stupid. “I always watch cartoons in the morning.”

“One of my many parenting fails.” Joni sighs as she wanders in. She pauses in the doorway, seeing how her child has turned me into her own personal armchair. “You sleep okay?”

“Slept great.”

Joni just raises an eyebrow, telling me she’s not buying it for a second. “Baby, why don’t you go get some breakfast from your dad, huh?” She gives Birdie one of those mom looks that always put the fear of God into me when my mom did it. Birdie’s not concerned, sliding off my chest with a thud and skipping through to the kitchen.

I sit up with a groan, finally able to take a full breath. “Thanks for that.”