Ricky wondered if he might just stop breathing, if his lungs would cease to expand and contract, if his blood would slow to a standstill in his veins. He listened to the throbbing of his own pulse in his head, fully expecting his heart to simply wind down like a kitchen timer. There'd be a loud, obnoxious clanging sound between his ears, followed by dead silence, and then dark oblivion.
In the terrible stillness of the truck cab, he could actually hear her breathing, and without meaning to, he found himself matching his own respiration to hers. As long as she sat beside him, breathing for him, setting the pace, in and out, in and out, he'd keep going. But when she got out of the vehicle, what then?
Not five minutes later they pulled into the parking lot at Ricardo's. He headed down one lane to look for an open spot, but she spoke. "Just drop me off at the back door."
He opened his mouth to protest, but one look at her profile told him it would do no good. In fact, it might even make things worse, if such a thing were possible. He turned the truck up the next lane, pulled along the curb, and turned off the engine.
And he'd thought it had been quiet before. He propped one arm on the window frame, his elbow hitting the glass a little too hard, making him wince, but he didn't make a sound. His other hand rested on his thigh, his fingers itching to reach across the chasm between them to touch her. Gia sat stiff and upright in the passenger seat, as she had the whole drive back from the taco shop, her hands tucked under her jacket balled up on her lap.
Finally, she spoke. "Thank you for the ride. I'm sorry... I'm sorry for...." Her voice faded away. She seemed as at a loss for words as he was. But she took a deep breath and started over. "You were right to wait. It seems I'm not ready after all."
She fumbled for the door handle and tugged, and Ricky wracked his brain for something to say—anything—that would keep her in his truck a little longer. "I'll wait," he said, pouring as much love as he dared into his promise. "I'll wait forever if you ask me to, if that's what you need."
Gia nodded but didn't look at him. "I know, Ricky." There was something in her voice that wrenched his insides, something final. Something fatal. She sounded emptied out, hollow. She pushed the door open, but then drew it almost closed again. "Just give me a little time, okay? Everything feels upside down inside my head right now and I—I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologize," he said, at last giving in to his need to touch her. He reached across the console and brushed her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. "I understand." He hesitated and then let out what he meant to be a chuckle, although it sounded more like a whimper to his ears. "When you're ready, I'll be here." He didn't say the words out loud, but he made a decision, then and there, to give her whatever time she needed, to let her have all the space she needed, and to wait until she came to him.
"Thank you." Gia reached up, grabbed his hand before he could pull it away, and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. And then she slipped out and disappeared inside the back door of Ricardo's Cafe without looking back.
Ricky sat at the curb for several minutes, going over and over in his head what had just happened. Not quite an hour ago, he'd picked her up at this very spot, both of them all smiles and teasing on their way to a romantic dinner for two. Where had things gone wrong? Was it all his fault? Had he really stepped so far over the line that the night should end this way? Yes, his crass response to her remark about friends with benefits was out of line, but he'd been beyond frustrated. Gia wasn't usually manipulative, she didn't play the semantics game, and it wasn't like her to be irrational, especially in their relationship, but tonight, she'd been all three.
He used to think he knew her so well, but now he wondered if maybe he'd just been fooling himself into believing that. What was going on in her head that he wasn't getting?