I can’t help the nagging feeling that something is going on with Conner. I don’t want to be that stereotypical partner with trust issues, but I also can’t ignore that he’s been secretive lately. Sometimes, when I ask him what his plans are for the day, he even sounds evasive.
Old fears have resurfaced from the out-of-character behavior, and I’m not proud to admit that I followed him a time or two. Each time, I found him having deep conversations with our town mayor, June Fuller, who had offered him an event planning job, which he accepted. So, as far as I know, they’re just discussing and planning for the next year’s events.
Knowing he wasn’t lying to me should have meant my fears were alleviated. He wasn’t cheating. He wasn’t looking for a way to get out of Midsummer and leave me. He was having business meetings.
Then, why the secrecy?
I eye my boyfriend, looking over his lean form, toned to delicious proportions due to his obsession with hiking; the scruff over his face after not shaving for a couple of days; the wavy, dark blonde hair that is sticking up, likely from excessively running his hands through it; and the way his tongue peeks out before he bites into his lower lip as he contemplates who knows what.
I’m completely in love with Conner, have been for months. But, am I missing something? Have I become too lax in our relationship?
“Conner, is everything okay?”
His gaze snaps to me and, when he speaks the words, “What do you mean?” he says them too quickly and defensively.
“You’re acting … I don’t know. Strange? Is something wrong?”
“No, no, of course not,” he assures me, and I think he’s telling the truth, but how can that be? I know something is wrong or, at least, bothering him, so why won’t he come to me about it?
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