He knows this is goodbye, but neither of us will say it. We made a promise at the age of twelve to never say goodbye. He won't break it. It's not who he is or how he's built. I love that about him. He is true to himself and me, even when it's hard and hurts.
Without another word spoken between us, I turn away, hop out of his truck, and make my way to my front door.
Chapter eighteen
Ander
Does she think I'm supposed to sit back and be okay with her walking away and acting like I don't exist again after she just stormed back into my life like a goddamn tornado and stirred up emotions inside of me that I've been trying to suppress for years? If that's honestly what she expects, then she has lost her fucking mind. I gave up easily once, but I refuse to do it again.
Not when it comes toher.
"No, V! Not this time!" I shout as I throw my truck door open and chase behind her.
She stops in her tracks but doesn't spin to face me. I can see her shoulders slump forward as she lets go of an exhale.
"If you're going to push me away again after our amazing night, you could at least come out and say it," I say this through anger andpain.
"Ander," her voice is small. She shakes her head, still refusing to turn to face me. I walk around her, standing right in her view, giving her no choice but to look at me. Her gaze stays fixatedon the ground. I inch in close to her, leaving very little space between us.
A lone tear rolls down her cheek. It takes everything in me not to pull her into me and kiss it away.
"Don't do this," she whispers, barely audible.
"No, Olivia, you don't do this!" my voice is firm as I try to control myself and not let the pain and anger that's coursing through me take control. I'm not trying to hurt or scare her, but god damn it, she owes me an explanation. I deserve to hear her words.
"What do you want from me?"
"The truth! I want answers, V! Fuck. You've shut me out for six goddamn miserable years. I've tried to be there for you. I did everything I could think of, and still, it wasn't enough."
I feel my voice getting louder, which is not what I want to do. I lower my tone before speaking again.
"I'm sorry for raising my voice at you. I never expected this." I motion a hand between us.
"I thought I'd never see you again. Talk with you again. Touch you again. Now, I did. I'll be damned if I'm going to let you walk away again without putting up more of a fight this time. I should have fought harder for you. You deserved for me to fight harder—" My voice catches as the lump in my throat grows.
She lets out a sigh as more tears fall from her eyes. I can tell this is ripping her apart, which isn't what I'm trying to do.
I close the gap between us and pull her into me. For a brief moment, she lets go of her control. She allows herself to relax in my arms and let me hold her like I've longed to do for the past six years.
One of her hands grips my back with need, pulling me tighter into her. I grab ahold of her other hand and place it over my heart.
"Don't you feel that? Can't you see what you still do to me? What you've always done and will always do to me. My heart beats for you."
Our embrace is short-lived as she pulls out of my grasp and steps back.
"Ander, I can't give you what you need."
"How would you know what I need? You've been MIA for six years," I deadpan.
"What I need is answers."
She looks me over for a second, then gives a gentle nod as she crosses her arms over her chest and leans against one of her porch posts, putting more distance between us.
I take her subtle nod as permission to proceed, so I do, with a lump in my throat and my stomach and heart both in knots.
This is it.
This is what I've waited six years for—the anxiety seeps in. I think over exactly how to word my questions.
