She did. The whole scene was too domestic for him. “You told me to come to California with you,” she said accusingly.

John went very still. “I cared for you. I wanted you to be happy. You were trapped out there and I wanted to offer you a place to stay while you started your new job.”

“Not as a roommate!” she shouted back at him, angry now. He was twisting things around. “That wasn’t the deal.” Her voice broke. “You told me you loved me.”

“I did. I do.” His voice was so low she barely heard him.

She stared at him, arms limp at her sides. All the things she wanted to tell him, all her fears and worries, her dreams and hopes, froze in her throat. From the start this arrangement had been fraught with uncertainty. He’d been honest with her. He’d told her he wasn’t ready to commit. And she’d accepted that. For two years she’d been careful to give him his space, never complaining when he went out with his friends, leaving her at home. She’d tried to be cavalier and went out with her girlfriends too. She never pressed him to declare his love, though he was always affectionate and generous. Yet all their intentions not to crowd each other, not to be under any obligation or commitment, not to make declarations of love, had left them in a limbo of discontent. Linnea having lost her job, becoming a dependent, had forced them out of complacency.

She searched his face for some sign, some signal of his feelings. “John, if you love me, what’s the problem?”

John shook his head. “The problem is… like I said, it feels like we’re married.”

“And you don’t like that.” It wasn’t a question.

“I don’t know. I feel a little suffocated, ya know? My shoulders hurt like hell from the stress.”

She took a minute to steady her breath as fear sent her heart pounding. “These are just bad days. Financially,” she hastened to add.

He didn’t respond.

“Come on, John. Talk to me.”

“I’m just not ready to go to the next level. Okay? I said it.”

“Will you ever be ready?”

John looked away.

She closed her eyes tight for a moment, but saw all clearly. “You had no problem living together when things were good. But,” she added with a bitter laugh, “when one bad thing happens, when I lose my job, suddenly the thought of taking care of me, of assuming any responsibility for me, is too much for you to handle?” She snorted. “You’re a real jerk.”

He didn’t reply.

She felt herself crumble inside and took a deep breath. “I followed you to California, even though my family thought it was a terrible idea! That awful fight with my father? He thought it was crazy for us to move in together. But I told him I knew you and I could make it, because I believed in us.”

“It’s not that I’ve stopped believing,” John said. He raked his hair with his fingers. “I don’t know. Maybe… we just need a break. Take some time to get our heads together.”