"Sorry," she said shortly. She was silent for a second looking me up and down. "Is this going to take long?"
"What?"
"I still don't know what you want."
"Did you have plans tonight?"
"No, but not that it matters now. You might as well sit or something," she said. No, I hadn't expected her to greet me at the door with hugs and kisses, but it was painfully obvious that she didn't want me there. Whatever, just leave once you talk to her. I sat as she walked out of the living room. "Do you want something to drink or anything?" she called. I stood. I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t wait around and lose my nerve to say what I had to say to her. I followed her out of the living room to the joint kitchen and dining room. She opened the fridge, looked inside, then closed it again.
"No, I'm good," I said. She turned and faced me.
"Then what do you want?"
"I had to talk to you after what happened yesterday." She nodded and turned around, opening the fridge again.
"I think we both got out everything that needed to be said," she said, speaking into the fridge.
"Natalie," I said, going up to her. I put a hand on her shoulder and relaxed when she didn't recoil.
"Am I wrong? Was there something else?" she asked. She turned slowly and looked up at me. "I'm pretty sure I heard you loud and clear yesterday. The sales meetings are going to start Monday. Was there anything else?"
"I made a mistake telling you what I did yesterday, Natalie."
"Mistake?" she asked, turning. "What part?"
"Saying I didn't feel the same way you do about me." She scoffed, looking down.
"And you want to say this to me now?" she asked, trying to move past me. "If I remember right, you said you didn't want anything to do with me."
"I didn't say that," I said, holding her arm to stop her walking away from me.
"I asked you whether you felt the same, and you said you didn’t. I didn't know there was more than one way to interpret that."
"Natalie, please," I said as she shook my arm off and walked back through to the living room. I followed her. "I didn't mean what I said. I lied to you."
"And you came all the way here just to tell me that?"
"Natalie, fucking listen to me. I'm trying to talk to you." She stood in the living room with her back to me. I heard her sigh. She ran her hands through her hair and walked to a couch, sitting.
"I felt like shit when we were together," she said. "I felt like a liar keeping what I had to say to you hidden while sleeping in your cabin every night. I felt like I didn't deserve it when we finally had sex, like I didn't deserve you no matter how much I wanted you."
"All that stuff about you feeling weird about me being my father's son?" I asked, going over to her.
"There was that too, but the guilt was still there. I hate myself for lying to you like that. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway, telling myself I was protecting you somehow. I was being selfish, and I'm sorry for doing that to you."
"I overreacted when you told me the truth the other day," I said, sitting next to her.
"No, you didn't."
"I should have tried to understand the position you were in. It was awkward for you trying to be there for me and do what Brett wanted at the same time."
"Awkward is one way to put it," she said.
"I was angry when I said that I didn't feel the same way you did about me. I was hurt. I was embarrassed, and I knew that if I told you that I didn't want you, I wouldn't have to see you again."
"I deserved that, I guess," she said. She was looking at the ground. I reached for her hand so she'd stop and look at me. I wanted her attention when I told her what I was about to say. It wasn't like it was this realization that had hit me out of nowhere after being separated from her. It had always been there. I had missed her when she had left. I wasn't just thinking about the next couple days and weeks with her; I had been thinking about moving back to Provo so we could be together. I wanted her in a way I thought would scare her away if I told her, but I had to.
Back out in the mountains, I hadn't been sure what exactly it was going to take to get me back down. I had known that it was just temporary, but I didn't know what it would be in the end that made me leave, pushed me with the same amount of force that losing my parents had in the opposite direction. I knew now, and I was looking at her. It had taking losing my parents to learn what they wanted for me, and it had taken almost losing Natalie to realize how much I wanted her.