She did not know.

     "But you trust me, right?"

     He looked at her, expectantly. She looked at her lap, her hands, her fingers -- intertwined, a web. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him. The least she could do was look at him.

     At the pause, he raised one eyebrow and then shook his head, letting out an exasperated noise. "I thought we were on the same page."

     She shrugged, finding it impossible to say what he wanted to hear. "I have nothing to give you. I told you. I have nothing to offer."

     He closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. She heard the leather move under his weight. She looked at his jawline, his stubble, the soft street light illuminating just his nose, lips and chin.

     "This has nothing to do with you." She said it softly, unsure.

     He turned to her, head still leaned back. Opened his eyes slightly, one hand on the steering wheel. "It feels like it does."

     "I know." A pause. "But it doesn't. It has everything to do with me. With my past."

     She raised her hands and touched both sides of her head. "It just feels so... so close. I mean, it is so close. It is so close, and it's suffocating. But I'm trying. I'm trying; I'm trying."

     He leaned forward, touched her hands, pulled so that they rested between them. "Are you?"

     She looked at him, alarmed. Offended. And then, clarity. She laughed a little laugh. She wasn't. She was trying to try, and she was failing.

     As if following her every thought, he smiled. One sad smile. Shrugged.

     "I just guess I'm not ready." He dropped her hands at those words. "I'm not even ready to try."

     "And that's okay." His eyes, big, were understanding. "It's okay, and it's understandable. But I can't do this if you can't."

     He paused, one last effort to coax the words out of her. This time, she smiled.

     "I can't."

     He exhaled, running one hand through his hair. "Yeah. I figured."
     She undid her seat belt and put her hand on the door. "I'm sorry." As she opened the door, she looked at his profile in the light. Shook her head at her own stupidity. 

     With a small wave, she stepped onto the sidewalk and started walking, not turning to look back until she heard him start the car and drive away. As his car turned the corner and disappeared, she dropped her head into her hands, barely breathing.
     A lone figure standing in the shadows of the quiet street, she waited. For a long, long time, she stood there, waiting. For what, she did not know.