Slowly … ever so slowly, he felt and watched as Allison closed herself off again. But something about it seemed different that time. Her body, still in his arms, became stiff and rigid. Her eyes shuttered, emotions closed off and he couldn’t help but think that something about it seemed … final. What had he done?
“Jared, could you let me up?” She asked, voice like steel, slicing through him. When she looked at him, there was no warmth in her eyes. No evidence of the day they’d spent together, or the good time they’d had, like he was suddenly a stranger. The only thing her blue eyes conveyed to him, was that she wanted him to release her, right then. That stung more than he liked to admit, because … she was a stranger. But she was also a stranger that he had wanted to know. He lifted her up from where he’d held her for mere seconds, before this profound change in her bearing toward Jared, was upon them.
Once on her own two heeled feet, well, her one and a half heeled feet, she straightened her dress. She then took her shoes off and held them by the straps, in her left hand. All the while, she didn’t look at him, but he could have sworn that there was … sorrow on her face. He had no idea what was going through her head, and once again, berated himself for it.
“Ally?” He asked, tentatively, taking a step toward her. She immediately stepped back, eyes wide, warding off any other attempts to reach her. “What’s going on, luv?” She stared back at him for a moment, sadly, but then he noticed as she steeled herself again.
“I’m sorry if I lead you on, but I can’t do this.” She said, certainty in her eyes. Her words as painful and shocking as a slap to the face.
His eyes narrowed on their own, and his words were ice, “Can’t do this, pet? Can’t do what? What is it that we're doing?”
“I’m not willing to go any further, and I’m sorry. But, thank you for a great time … and for listening …” She turned to go. He was behind her, gripping her arm, before she made the first step toward the door. She was going to explain to him what was going on. This was just so … strange and so sudden. Why? What had he done that was so awful, was it that wrong to think of being something more than just two partially acquainted strangers? Was she really going to just walk away after they had … connected? Even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop her from going, had no right to not want her to go, he had to know, why?
“I’m not going to try to stop you, because we are, just two strangers that came across each other by chance … but don’t expect me to let you leave without letting me know, luv. Why the sudden change of heart?” She gently removed her arm from his grip, his only connection he had left with her, and placed her hand on the handle of the door.
He thought she was going to leave him without another word, but instead, quietly she said, “Trust me, you don’t want the trouble of knowing.” She pushed open the door and was gone. But that was the problem … he did want the trouble.