“You love it when I challenge you because you’re strong and you love to prove it, but you also love when I defend you. You love that I won’t back down from a fight, especially if it involves you. And you know I’d do anything for you.” I take her hand in mine, and my confidence is bolstered when she lets me. “You’re strong, so fucking strong. But more than that, you’re compassionate and kind. You see the good in people. You even found the good in me. You fell in love with me despite my imperfections, and you love me still.”
She lets out a nervous laugh. “Now you’re telling me how I feel?”
“Yes, because I promised you the whole truth.” I drag her into my lap. “You know I’m the only one for you. No one will ever make you feel the way I do; no one will ever fuck you the way I do. You love me, and I love you. That won’t ever change.”
I cradle her face, making her look at me, and she presses her hands to my chest over my heart.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” I challenge. “Tell me you don’t feel it. Tell me you don’t love me.” My voice cracks. “Tell me you found a man who made you feel the way I do while you were away. Tell me.”
She exhales sharply. “I’ve moved on.”
I grip her chin. “You’re a terrible liar, baby.”
She pushes me away, eyes full of fire. “And what about you? I saw the text, remember?”
I hold her gaze, my voice dropping lower. “None of them compared to you.”
Hurt flashes across her face. “Yeah,right.”
Cuffing her neck, I make sure she’s paying attention before I speak again. “I knew I’d never move on. I’d never forget you. So, I settled for just trying to feel something, anything other than the emptiness that settled in my chest after I pushed you away. But it never worked. Every time I tried, with every fucking woman, I only saw you. In every sound, in every breath, in every touch—I saw you.”
Her chest heaves, and her brows knit together. “It wasn’t like that for me,” she finally says.
“No?” I ask, feigning that confidence she swears I’m full of. “And who was he? Who was the guy who helped you move on?”
She shakes her head and tries to stand, but I firmly hold her in place. My breath is shallow, my chest aching. The way she looks at me is disturbing. It’s wrong.
“Tell me,” I urge her.
Looking right at me, she sighs. “I was engaged.”
My body goes numb, and my heartbeat thunders in my ears. “What?” I croak.
“I met Theo during my senior year. He was my professor.” She swallows, the delicate column of her throat twitching. “Nothing happened then, but after graduation, we ran into each other at the bar. From there, everything happened so quickly. It was the definition of a whirlwind romance. After just a few months, he asked me to marry him.”
A storm builds inside my chest, my muscles tensing. “And no one told me?”
Matt’s parting words come to mind, and I grit my teeth. He fucking knew, and he didn’t tell me.
“You were gonna marry him?”
She pushes against me again, and this time, I let her climb off my lap. Hovering over me, she worries her bottom lip. Then, she shrugs. “I said yes.”
I stand from the couch and pace the room. I could’ve lost her forever, and I had no fucking idea.
Running a hand down my face, I choke back the bile rising in my throat. Matt hid it from me and so did my dad, but the person I’m most angry with is myself. I should’ve followed her to Italy. I should’ve begged for her forgiveness years ago.
I stop and turn to look at her. “I still follow your socials. How come I never saw you with him?”
“He was my professor before we started dating. We didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”
I storm over to her, my breath sawing in and out of my lungs. “Where is he now? Because you’re here, and I don’t see a ring. What happened?”
She doesn’t shy away. No, she lifts her chin and pulls her shoulders back. “He’s in Milan.”
“And what happened? Did he not want to move to the U.S. with you? Shouldn’t he be here for Matt’s wedding?”
She snarls, “He’s not here because we broke up, but Theo was amazing. He treated me right, he respected me, he supported me in every possible way, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t marry him.”
