“You are. You’re the first person to understand me, accept me for who I am.”
My stomach drops as he takes my hands in his and draws them down into his lap.
“I’d say that’s not true.” He inclines his head. “There’s another man who understands you. A man who accepted you long before I did. Only fate stepped in and pulled you apart.”
His words echo the ones Elijah said, about time and fate never being on our side.
“Pen, listen to me. You can’t walk away, not if you have a chance at true happiness. True love.” He gives me a sad sigh. “You tried to ignore what you saw at Caleb and April’s wedding, but you can’t. Not when you’ve felt it yourself.”
I shake my head from side to side.
“Can you?” he says. “We are perfect in so many ways, and I do love you, Pen. But I’m not, and I don’t think I ever will be the love of your life.”
“You’re wrong,” I say, but the words sound hollow even to my ears.
“Am I?” he says. “Pen, I need you to listen to me.”
He waits until my eyes meet his. His shape blurs as reality takes hold.
“When I lost Annie, I lost the love of my life. But I wouldn’t change a moment of the time I spent with her for all the heartache and pain. That kind of love is rare.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“Don’t be. But one thing I know is I can’t deprive you of that same love, that feeling of completeness. Not if you can have it too.”
“But how many times do I have to tell you? Eli sees me as his friend. Hedoesn’tloveme.”
My voice rises with despair and desperation.
This can’t be happening.
“Are you sure about that?”
I pause.
“Did your heart race when you were together? Did he find reasons to touch you? Hold your hand?”
“We were working,” I say, but my mind recounts every memory of Elijah touching me, albeit to pass a coffee or to offer comfort. That last morning when he told me he wasn’t coming to the wedding, the look in his eyes.
Could it be true?
No, stop!I have my life planned out, damn it.I’m not going to do this to myself again.
“You’re wrong,” I say, more firmly this time.
“If you don’t have feelings for Elijah and truly believe he doesn’t love you, that you don’t love him. Come to bed. Let me make love to you,” Kris says, holding out his hand.
My muscles tense, and my chest tightens. I inhale a shuddering breath.
Kris surprises me, taking my head in his hands once more.
“Look at me.”
My eyes drop to my knees.
“Pen, look at me,” he says more firmly.
I raise my eyes slowly, unsure what I’ll see there.
