No. I shut down the rest of that sentence. No excuses. None for myself or Daniel. And she doesn’t want to hear them anyway. Not from the way she frowns, crossing her arms. And this time she doesn’t lower them. And I interpret the gesture correctly. She’s protecting herself.
From me.
I try to inhale past the blow of agony that kicks me in the gut. Try and fail.
“So the anime-website subscriptions, the ghost tour, monster museum ... that was all you,” she says, her voice low, vibrating with ...anger, disbelief, pain. A nauseous mix of all three? “That was all you feeding him information about me.” She barks out a harsh, ragged laugh that’s ugly and breaks my heart. “That’s a lot of fucking trouble. Were you that desperate for your friend to get laid? Was he?”
“What?” My chin jerks back, the verbal fist of her words slamming into it. “What the fuck?No, Miriam. That’s not how it was at all.”
“Right,” she drawls; her mouth twists into a terrible caricature of a smile. “I’m sure it wasn’t. And there I was going on and on about how well Daniel seemed to know me. How it made me feel special that he paid attention to all the details about me. How hecared. Shit.” She thrusts her hands into her hair, fisting the curls and stalking several steps to the window offering a view of the lit pool. “You two must’ve gotten a laugh out of that one.”
“Miriam, please look at me. Please,” I beg. Because I’m not above it. She slowly—reluctantly, it seems—turns to me. As if the sight of me pains her. Disgusts her. “We never wanted to hurt you. Sweetheart, that never even crossed our minds. Youarespecial. That’s why I—”
“Save it,” she says, voice flat. Then she gives another of those awful, jagged laughs. “God.It’s like goddamn déjà vu. Except instead of Daniel fucking me, you did.”
I almost drop to my knees; I reach behind me and clutch the edge of the bookshelf just in case. How is it possible to still be standing when the pure agony has me flayed wide open like some gruesome science experiment? I run a hand over my chest and abdomen, inanely making sure I’m still in one piece. Flinching because even my own touch is too much.
“I did it because I love you,” I rasp.
Yeah, my voice sounds hoarse from the silent roar I locked down. She stiffens, her shoulders damn near rising to her ears as if she’s severely offended by my announcement. And her eyes narrow, her head already shaking, denying the veracity of my words.
But I’m hollow, and I have nothing to lose.
No one to lose. Not anymore.
“You love me?” she repeats, disbelief dripping from her tone.
“Yes.” I meet the anger, the dark hurt, in her gaze. I don’t flinch from it. “I have almost from the moment we met in the Bacon Social House parking lot. From the instant you asked me to carry you away to my mansion for a carefree life of domestic bliss, Jimmy Choos, and orgasms.” In spite of the emptiness yawning wide in my chest, a faint flash of humor flickers, and I barely smile before it disappears. “I was in love with you the first time we made love—or I did—and the first time you told me we could only be friends. I’ve never stopped. Even when I wanted to. Even when I tried to. And Daniel? He was my attempt at trying to. But I failed.”
I flip my hands over, peer down at my palms as if they contain the answers to how everything has become so incredibly screwed up.
“I failed because it would be easier to quit breathing than it would be to stop loving you. One is possible; the other isn’t. You are under my skin, entrenched in my heart, my soul. If I’d been honest with you about my feelings from the beginning, maybe none of this would’ve happened. But if I’d been honest with you, we both know we wouldn’t be standing here because you would’ve cut me out of your life.”
“Is this the transference-of-emotion portion of the program?” She waves a hand between us. “This is the part where this bullshit is somehow my fault?”
“No. All of this—lying to you, hiding the truth from Daniel, betraying your trust—is on me. I own that. But you need to own yours too. Give me that. Especially since I have the feeling when we walk out of this room, I won’t have another opportunity to talk to you.”
Because she would do what I accused her of—excise me out of her life.
“Be honest with me, Miriam. Be honest with yourself. How many men have you had sex with, then, before the damn sweat dried, demanded either friendship only from or nothing? You were alreadyrunning scared. Something about me, about us, terrified you. A part of you, on some level, whether you want to admit it or not, knew I loved you. And that same part knew I wasn’t a man you could easily control. Because that’s what your flings are about, aren’t they? Control. Leave them before they leave you? But love is the one thing you can’t plan, can’t dictate or manipulate. You weren’t expecting me, and that scares the hell out of you. And that’s okay, because you terrify me too. But the difference between me and you? I’m not running away from you. I’m running toward you.”
She doesn’t speak, and in a way, that says everything.
Nodding, I turn but draw to a halt and pivot back to face her.
“I’m sorry I betrayed your trust. I could give you reasons and excuses, but I won’t. That cheapens the apology. And, Miriam, I am so sorry. I never meant to traumatize you again, and it’s ripping a hole in my chest that I’m the cause of your pain. If you don’t believe I love you, if you don’t accept anything else I’ve said here in this room, please believe that.”
Then I stride out, a wild, red-tinged desperation propelling me toward the front door and out into the dark. After pausing only to arrange a way home for Miriam with Linc, I practically bolt out of his house.
I don’t know where I’m going.
And it doesn’t matter. I just need away from here.
Away from her. Away from the source of my pain.
But unfortunately no one’s invented a way for me to escape myself yet.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
