#Chapter31
My feet carry me on an abstract path around the car and the yard and the road. The first time I look back to Adam, he's sat on the porch steps. The second time, he's pacing while on the phone. Our gazes meet and I tear mine away. As I wander, I try to find the courage that I entered the house with. Being with Adam feels as it did back when I first met him—awkward due to complete awareness. Sure, mates do what people in love do, but love isn't so blunt. Love is dressed up with special moments and restless dreams and the blindness of passion; this—whatever his mother described—is a corporate job that I've been deemed unqualified for.
I'm too young to view such things as a job to get done. Hell, such things are supposed to be unraveled and cherished. It's supposed to be special. Am I wrong? Am I being naive?
