Coming Up For Air | ✓

21 | what do you want?

"I told you; I thought it's time we talk."

"No," Stella's chest tightens. "Why? What is it that you want?"

Jake rests his elbows on the kitchen island, his fingers steepled. "For things to be right again. Between us."

"You couldn't have told me that in a text?" Stella asks and rubs at her goose bumped arms as a breeze trickles through the house, fluttering the sheer floor-length beige curtains. Outside, in the dark night, the wind rustles the leafy crowns of the trees—down by the water, the reeds sway from side to side in unison.

"I needed to see you."

Her mothers have often told her she's too stubborn for her own good, but that doesn't stop Stella from raising her chin in slight challenge now. "Why?"

Jake takes a few steps back to slide the door shut as another gust of wind slips inside. "Because."

"Because?"

"For heaven's sake Stella," Jake groans. "Just because!"

"That's not good enough," Stella walks over to the fridge, squinting at the light pouring out as she yanks the door open. Grabbing the pitched of iced lemon tea, she turns to Jake. "Want some?"

He rolls his lips together, lifting his shoulder in half a shrug. "Sure, yeah,"

Stella pours them a glass each, sliding his across the kitchen island before taking a sip of her own.

Tapping his fingers against his glass, Jake meets her eyes again. "I wanted to apologize," He says. "For what happened, between us."

"Which part?" Stella asks before thinking better of it. She holds her free hand up. "No, don't. It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters."

"You've got nothing to apologize for," Stella sets her iced tea down, lets her gaze rest on her red-painted nail as she traces the rim of the glass. Her heartstrings are pulled taut as her heart grows heavier. "I mean, you were right. I get it. I'm complicated,"

She lets her lips pull into a hint of a self-deprecating smile. "I don't blame you for not wanting to put up with the joys of overweight baggage."

"I never said–," Jake pauses, his features smoothing out in realization. With a sigh-sounding exhale bordering on exasperation, he rubs at his jaw. "Fuck. Stella I never meant that you... I'd never– I was thinking about our families. What they'd think, about us. What'd happen if we gave this a shot and it didn't work out. I had such a great time with you that day and then mom pulled those photo albums out and I freaked. I just kept thinking we'd ruin it. All of it. And then I felt impulsive, and foolish and selfish for not thinking about..."

Jake gestures vaguely in the air.

Stella's teeth lightly grazes her lip as she bites down on it, a faint burn at the base of her throat. "You should've told me that."

Jake blows out a breath. "You didn't even give me a chance to."

"Maybe you didn't try hard enough."

"You were the one who ran away."

Stella slams her hands down hard on the counter, fresh pain blossoming in her stomach—a tangled up ache. "Because I was hurt Jake! Not because I wanted to. Not because I didn't want to listen. I would've. If you– if you'd just stopped me from getting in that car, I would have listened."

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"You just were," Stella bites back a sigh, unsure whether her heart or her stubbornness lie behind the words. The glass of iced tea leaves a damp circle upon the wooden countertop as she lifts it to her lips. "And I would've understood. It would've still hurt but at least I would've understood. You just– you left me in the dark."