"So that's it?" Her voice is small, hurt. "We just pretend this never happened? We get divorced and go back to our separate lives like none of this mattered?"
"It's the only way." The words taste like ash in my mouth. "Once Desmond is dealt with, once you're safe, we end this. You tell Ronan—any of the excuses you came up with. Any reason you think he’ll accept? We don't mention the marriage, we don't mention any of this. And then we move on."
"You make it sound so easy." There are tears in her eyes now, and each one feels like a knife to my chest. "Like you can just walk away from me without a second thought."
Easy?There's nothing easy about this. The thought of letting her go, of watching her move on with her life while I go back to mine, is tearing me apart. But what choice do I have? And if I let her know how this is making me feel, if she sees how much I love her, too, she’s just going to fight for this even harder when the only thing that will save us is for her to let go.
"I'm trying to protect you," I say quietly. "From Desmond, from Ronan's anger, from the fallout if all of this comes to light. The kindest thing I can do for you is let you go before this gets any worse."
"I don't want kind." Her voice breaks on the word. "I want you. I want this to be real. I want—" She stops, pressing her hand to her mouth as a sob escapes.
I reach for her before I can stop myself, pulling her into my arms. She comes willingly, burying her face in my chest as she cries. I hold her tight, one hand stroking her hair, the other pressed against her back, and I let myself have this moment. Let myself pretend, just for a few seconds, that this could work. That we could have a future together.
But we can't. And the sooner I accept that, the less it will hurt when it's over.
Except I know that's a lie. It's going to hurt like hell no matter what. Because I love her, and I'm going to have to let her go anyway.
After a while, her sobs quiet to hiccups. She pulls back just enough to look up at me, her eyes red and swollen, her face blotchy from crying. And yet, somehow, she's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"I hate this," she whispers. "I hate that we can't just be together. I hate that we have to hide and lie and pretend. I hate that Desmond is out there somewhere, and I hate that Ronan doesn't know the truth. I hate all of it."
"I know,cuore mio." I press my lips to her temple. "I hate it too."
She's quiet for a moment, her fingers curling into my shirt. Then, so softly I almost don't hear it: "How much time do we have?"
I know what she's asking. How much time before Desmond is found, before this is over, before we have to end this and go back to being nothing to each other.
“I have to find him as soon as I can,” I say quietly. “So that you’re safe, so Ronan’s torment ends, so you can go home. If I can find him tomorrow, I will. This has to be over soon, Annie.”
"Then I want to make the most of it." She looks up at me, her eyes still glimmering with tears. "If this is all we get, if this is temporary, then I want every moment we can have.”
My heart is pounding, desire and dread warring in my chest. I know what she's offering. I know what she wants. And God help me, I want it too. Want her with an intensity that borders on madness.
But it's a terrible idea. The more we give in to this, the harder it's going to be to walk away. The more memories we make, the more it's going to hurt when it's over.
"Annie—"
"Please." She climbs into my lap, straddling me, her hands coming up to frame my face. "Don't tell me no. Don't tell me we shouldn't. I know all the reasons why this is a bad idea. I know it's going to hurt when it's over. But I'd rather have this, have you, even for a little while.”
Her words echo my own thoughts from days ago, and I feel my resolve crumbling. She's right. We're already in too deep. The damage is already done. What difference does it make if we take what we can while we have the chance?
"You're going to regret this," I say, but my hands are already moving to her hips, holding her against me.
"Maybe." She leans in, her lips brushing mine. "But I'll regret not doing it more."
And then she's kissing me, and I'm lost. I kiss her back with everything I have, pouring all the love and longing and desperation I feel into it. My hands slide under her shirt, finding the warm skin of her back, and she gasps against my mouth.
I pull her to me, kissing her again as my hands reach for the hem of her shirt. She helps me pull it over her head, and then her hands are on my shirt, fumbling with the buttons.
"You're so beautiful," I murmur, tracing the line of her jaw with my fingers. "So fucking beautiful, Annie."
She reaches up, pulling me down for another kiss. "I want more,” she whispers. “I want all of it.”
I give her everything I can. I kiss my way down her neck, her collarbone, the swell of her breasts. I want to memorize this, want to burn it into my memory so that when this is over, I'll have something to hold onto.
Her hands are in my hair, tugging, urging me on. I reach behind her to unhook her bra, tossing it aside, and then my mouth is on her breast, my tongue circling her nipple. She arches into me with a cry, and the sound goes straight to my cock.
I’m so fucking hard. I want to be inside of her more than I want to breathe. But I force myself to go slow. Force myself to?—
