I packed her bag before the sun came up, left it by the front door and bolted. I didn’t go to the gym to work out, I just needed somewhere else to be.
Two more texts went unanswered this morning and it was as though the clock finally struck midnight: our time was up.
After the gym, I head into work completely unsure how I’ll be able to get anything done today with everything that’s on my mind.
It’s not until I step off the elevator to an empty office that I realize it’s a holiday. The thought literally hadn’t crossed my mind once. Fitting, I think, as I stroll through the desolate space that matches the condition of my heart: stretched wide as far as the eye can see, but wholly empty. No pulse. No life coursing through it.
Since I can’t go back to my apartment and I’m here anyway, I boot up my computer, toss my phone on the desk and drag my feet to the break room to make a pot of coffee.
Back at my desk, cup of mediocre coffee in hand, I’m typing in my computer password when my phone buzzes.
My heart lifts at the sight of Gretchen’s name on my screen.
Gretchen
Come home!!!
Chapter Forty-Eight
I’VE LOVED YOU ANYWAY
Gretchen
This iswhere I should have been the whole time. I know it now with perfect clarity. The progression of concern, to panic, to defeat in Connor’s messages that led him to pack my suitcase makes it painfully obvious that he was here, struggling…alone.
I should have been here. With him.
Hurriedly, I brush my teeth and put on my glasses, because my eyes are on fire from wearing contacts all night. I throw on a fresh set of clothes—jean shorts and one of Connor’s t-shirts because I need to feel him close. I also crank up the thermostat because it’s themother-effingtundra in here. Then, I’m pacing, thumbnail buried deep between my teeth.
Ten minutes later, Connor tumbles into the apartment in a rush. Dressed in dark jeans and a light blue collared shirt, he’s disheveled, breathless. He looks at me like he’s just spotted his oasis in the desert when, in reality, he’s mine.
I close every inch between us and throw my arms around him.He buries his face in my neck, arms wound so tight around my waist I can feel the beat of his racing heart in my own chest.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have gone. I should have been here with you.”
“Did I lose you?” he croaks, voice tattered.
I yank my head back to look at him, his eyes glassy and bloodshot. Jaw cradled in my palms, I sweep a soft touch over where my brother punched him. “No.” I kiss him, his fists clenching into the fabric of the shirt at my back. “You didn’t lose me,” I get out between the give and take of our lips.
Breathless, we pull back and I bring his forehead down to mine.
“But I messed up everything for you,” he chokes out. His tears are so heartbreaking, I can’t help but cry, too.
“You didn’t. I’ll talk to my parents later.”
He swallows thickly. “Everything Drew said about?—”
“Doesn’t matter.” I kiss him again.
“But it was all true…”
In a dark room, I could hold a blacklight up to Connor and find streaks and stains, lashes of shame, spanning every inch of him. This man—thisgoodman—has borne the guilt of his mistakes in broad daylight for years.
But his past doesn’t scare me.Hedoesn’t scare me.
“Stop,” I command. “What happened back then doesn’t matter to me.” I’ve told him this before, but he needs to hear it again. “You can’t change your past, but that doesn’t mean it gets to define you.”
Embarrassment clouds his features as he looks away.
