So finally she had an answer.
Not that she'd asked a question.
But he'd heard one, and he'd answered. Delayed, but definitely.
And the answer was no, never, how could you ever think that?
And once the first shock of disappointment passed, she asked herself the same.
How could she ever have thought that?
That he might love her? That he might value her? That he might want her?
She's a nice girl with a good heart. That's why everyone likes her and I like her too.
How it had stung, to hear that he saw her as only a nice girl with a good heart. And yet, later, she laughed to herself and ruefully wondered if maybe she didn't owe herself some congratulations. It had taken seven months and she'd had to literally save his life as he lay dying, but finally she had made a good impression on him.
He'd called her so many names in those first months, suffering under a misapprehension about her motives. Liar. Cheat. Golddigger. Now, at least, he understood her true nature. Now, at least, she could finally recognize herself in his description of her.
A small victory. But when she'd just lost everything, she could give herself permission to acknowledge the tiny win.
But now she's started playing games with me and I hate people who play games with me.
Then again, now there was a fresh galat fehmi (misunderstanding). He, who'd been playing games with her life since day one, now hated her for...for what? For wanting to move their relationship forward? For believing that she was in safe hands with her sister and his best friend? For daring to hope that his keeping her in his life this long might actually mean something?
But no, that wasn't fair.
He might only just be beginning to know her, but she'd long since come to understand the workings of his mind. And she understood that he was reacting badly to feeling pressured. She understood that he'd spoken harshly out of anger. She understood that he had interpreted the situation as manipulation, even though that was the last thing she could ever intend for him.
She understood that sometimes - often - he said things he didn't mean.
Do whatever you want, but please - stay away from me. And please, leave me alone.
And yet.
Why should she always have to read between the lines with him?
What did she gain by taking the trouble to find the best possible meaning beneath his least considered words?
All her translating and adjusting hadn't been enough to bridge the differences between them.
He still misunderstood her.
And true, maybe he didn't know what he really wanted. Maybe he needed some more time.
But maybe she didn't have to give it to him.
He'd given her answer enough, and maybe it was time to do as he'd told her.
She couldn't do what she wanted - touch him, hold him, claim him.
But the rest, yes, she could manage.
She could stay away from him. She could leave him alone.
She could give him what he wanted.
Even though he'd never do the same.
Thank you for reading.
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All my KKB fic can be found at my KKB Fic Index.
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