Hating the distance between us and not being able to see her eyes, I bridge the gap and stand in front of her. My heart sinks at the indifferent expression she’s wearing.
“I kept my word,” she says solemnly, building her walls back up. “Now you’ll keep yours, Mr. Smith.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“God knows what chaos is waiting for us,” she continues, disregarding my words. “Take me home and I won’t tell them about any of this. I’ll make up a?—”
“You’re not missing.”
“Excuse me?”
“I told Matt you’re on a nature retreat because a spot opened up at the last minute.” She loves going to them from time to time, so I knew it’ll be the perfect lie. “I’ve been texting him from your phone here and there so he didn’t get suspicious.”
She gapes at me in horror. “So… So, I was never really kidnapped?”
“No.”
“Unbelievable.”
“I didn’t know how else to make you stay,” I murmur weakly. “I needed time to confess and show how much I love you. Don’t make me take you back to him.”
Her throat bobs, while moisture glistens in her eyes. “I can’t just leave Matt, Alexander. You can’t push my back against the wall and ask me to choose you. It’s unfair. I can’t flip a switch and stop loving Matt.”
Fuck, I know she’s right. But damn, if the heartbreak doesn’t make my chest hurt.
If you love her, you need to let her go.
Hoping she comes back to me.
“Okay, I’ll take you home,” I say thickly. Cupping her face, I press my lips against her temple in a chaste kiss, lingering as I promise, “But know that I’ll be waiting for you. I’m not giving up on us.”
Neither of usmakes a move to get out of the car as I park outside her house. The drive was a sad affair. The emotional distance between us was oceans apart.
My body physically aches, my soul longs to touch and caress her. However, I know it’ll be the wrong move.
I’m thrust back into purgatory.
If she chooses Matt… I can’t even bear the thought, much less live the reality.
Summoning courage, I open the glove compartment and take out her phone. “Here.”
Tension crackles in the air as our hands touch when I pass it to her.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, not meeting my eyes. Twisting in the opposite direction, she reaches for the handle.
I capture her wrist before she can step out, tilting her face toward mine. “Don’t blame yourself, Molly. The entire week was my doing. Any guilt you’re feeling is mine to bear.”
“It would be true if I didn’t give in to us. If I didn’t crave it with every fiber in my being. So, yeah, I do deserve to feel all the shame for cheating on Matt. I can blame you for the first fuck, but the rest of them, I was a willing partner.”
Leaning away from me, she gets out and never once looks back.
Fickle hope dies a swift death.
She may not choose my son, but she may not choose me either.
SEVENTEEN
ALEXANDER
