The second chance

Chapter 23

The return home was grim. Erick avoided communication with me the whole way and honestly maintained a sacred temple silence in the car. I tried in vain to engage him in some kind of conversation, to extract information from him, what kind of week is waiting for him, whether he has a lot of work or whether we will see each other tomorrow, nothing helped. I received one-word answers to everything like yes, no, I don't know, maybe. He was driving quietly, absorbed in himself, which I was starting to worry a little about. And maybe not! Every time he got stuck like that, he would slam the door and break up.

Finally, when he stopped the car in front of the building where I lived, he found the courage to look at me. "You're home," he spoke in a low voice, the tone of which reminded me that his anger had not yet passed. He continued to sulk.

"Great," I forced a smile. "Come on, I'll make coffee," I added and got out.

"I'd rather go," he replied and remained sitting in the car.

"But, come on?" I immediately turned to him. "Let's at least have coffee together," I urged him. I didn't want to leave things unresolved. I secretly hoped that over a cup of hot drink, he would relax a bit and be willing to talk to me about the worries that were bothering him.

"Okay," he sighed resignedly, turned off the engine and got out.

He went around the car, took the travel bag from my hand and followed me to the apartment. The silence that reigned between us and his tense posture sent chills down my spine.

At home, I first rinsed my face with cold water to prepare myself for the storm that was brewing all the way, and which was expected to gather strength at any moment. Then I put the water on for the coffee and took my time with it, even though I knew that no amount of delay would ease the struggle Erick was going through inside.

I found Erick standing by the window like a soldier on guard. He was standing with his back to me, his hands in his pants pockets and his mind elsewhere.

"Aren't you going to sit down?" I challenged him.

"No," he shook his head as he turned to face me.

"What is going on?" I asked him with well-hidden nervousness in my voice.

"Nothing," he answered promptly.

Nothing!? I wanted to scream at him, but I knew it wouldn't get anywhere. During the time we were together, I noticed that when Erick got stuck, even a pulley wouldn't help. Maybe they would have appreciated it in the last century, but I definitely don't nowadays. I preferred the conversation.

"Do you know what your problem is?" I started cautiously, even though I had lost all patience. We kept walking around the hot mess.

"Are you starting the analysis again?" he looked at me mockingly.

"No," I answered touched and crossed my arms over my chest, "but at least you can see that you obviously have more problems."

"Actually, I don't have any," he retorted and clenched his jaw, but his cheek muscles twitched like a cracked rubber band.

I laughed bitterly and shook my head in disapproval. "Whenever you feel that your relationship with a woman is becoming too intimate, you end it. You break up with her and you don't even look back."

I hit the nail on the head. I had the impression that it was difficult for him to look me in the eyes.

"That's nonsense," he began to defend himself.

"I'm not blind Erick and I've known you for a week now."

"Look," you ran your hand through your hair nervously. "It's all gone over our heads and we need to end it before we go too far."