“I know you didn’t. I know you really care about her.”
“I need to see her.” I push up on my feet and he follows suit.
“Why don’t you drink the water, swallow an ibuprofen, take a shower, and then I’ll bring you to her, okay?”
“You don’t need to come. I’m going to talk to her. I’m going to make things right. I don’t want to lose her.”
Something flashes on his face that makes me think he doesn’t believe it’ll happen. But then he nods. “I’m coming with. You shouldn’t be driving after last night and right now.”
Reluctantly, I agree. “How did she get home last night?” I hate myself.
“Noah took her. He made sure she got home safe. I promise.”
I really hate myself.
I find her outside, sitting on the grass with a towel wrapped around her body, staring straight ahead. She doesn’t turn or make a sound when I approach her.
“Josie, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She rises, turning around before I get to stand in front of her, and takes a few steps back, adding distance between us.
“Josie.” I stretch my hands out, but she takes another step back. “Josie, please. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean what I said. I shouldn’t—I wish I could take it all back. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Please,” I plead desperately, with every inch of me.
Her eyes level with mine and my heart squeezes. I try to reach out for her again, but she steps back.
“Josie, baby. Please, please, please,” I beg and drop to my knees, staring up at her desperately. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Her bottom lip quivers and she bites it. Shaking her head, she stands in front of me and sinks to her knees. She circles her arms around my neck, and presses me to her wet body.
I bury my face in the crook of her neck and pull her as close to me as I possibly can. My world steadies and I breathe easier.
“I’m sorry,” she delivers in an agonizing tone.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said last night. I shouldn’t have?—”
“Daniel,” she achingly whimpers and pulls back just enough to cup my cheeks and tilt my head back so I can look at her. There’s a sorrowful look on her face, like she’s the one who’s sorry, who’s struggling with words. “You deserve good things. You deserve to be happy.”
My brows pinch in. “I am happy. You make me happy.”
“No, no, I don’t. You arenothappy with me. You’ve made yourself miserable. You’ve put your needs, your feelings, yourself last for the sake of making me happy. I think you lied to yourself enough that you believed it, but you’re not. I can’t make you happy. I can’t give you the emotional stability you need. I wanted to…” She gets choked up on a sob. “So badly give it to you, but I can’t. I don’t know how.”
I vigorously shake my head, tightening my hold on her. “You can. You have. Iamhappy with you. I want you. I need you, Josie. Believe me. Please.”
She sadly smiles at me. “You deserve good things.”
“Pleasedon’t give up on us.”
“I missed the signs.” She laughs with remorse. “I should’ve seen them becauseI’vebeen there, butIoverlooked them. Ididn’t do enough. I’m sorry you had to hide yourself. I’m sorry you?—”
“It’s not your fault. I’m fine.”
“Stop saying that!” She drops her hands and jerks away from me. “You are not fine. I’m not enough for you.”
“You are! You are enough for me! So enough, I can’t stop drowning in you. I crave you. I want you. I need you. I lo?—”
She wraps her arms around. “Don’t. Don’t say that. You’ll regret it.”
I kiss her temple over and over. “I’m not. I do, Josie. You need to believe me. I?—”
