42 Forty-two: MTOABB

MTOABB

“Why am I here then?” I ask him, because yes, I am hurt that he rejected him.

“I want to talk to you,” he says, still not bothering to look at me.

“Have we not done that enough? I don’t want to keep fighting with you, Gomes.” I move to place my hand of his on the steering wheel and it stops him from his movement.

“I don’t want to talk. I just want you,” I whisper. He turns to look at me, focusing on just my eyes as he holds my stare.

“Come with me this weekend,” he tells me, still holding my stare.

“It's Thanksgiving weekend, I don't think I can.”

“I spoke to Chloe, she’s coming with,” he tells me and I can’t help but leave my mouth agape with incredulity.

“Seriously? I thought it would just be us.” I swiftly retract my hand from his and position it on my lap.

“Would you have wanted it that way?” he asks, staring at me with a dazed look of bewilderment.

“Wouldn’t you?” I laugh sarcastically.