My heart broke further when I saw the look in her eyes.
I was a worthless piece of shit.
“I’m here even if you think you don’t need me.” She stood taller, that hurt turning into something worse—stubbornness.
Not worth fighting right now. Instead of arguing with them, I left for the room I was staying in this empty house, grabbing the bottle of whiskey on my way up.
No one would miss me. Hell, everyone blamed me, like they had when Dad died. I should have been here for my mom. I could have made her think about life in a more positive way and been here as a loving son.
Well, I wasn’t a loving fucking son. I had flown back to Tampa and forgotten about Mom while burying myself in Mia.
A knock against the door made me look up from the bed I was sitting on. Mia opened it, and I groaned. I did not need this right now. I was having a solo pity party that consumed me. She wasn’t welcome.
“I don’t care that you don’t want me here or how shitty you feel inside that head. I don’t care what you say to me. I’m not leaving you. And, before you start mouthing that love is complicated and that we should give up, know that I believe love is worth fighting for, even when it gets messy. Because that’s what we have, Logan. Love. I know you love me just as much as I love you. Real love is seeing all the ugly parts of each other and saying I’m staying anyway. You’ve seen me at my worst, and you were my peace. Now, it’s my turn to be yours. However long it takes.”
She walked over with a fierce determination in her step, fingers gripping my tie and pulling my lips to hers.
For a moment, I believed her. Those lips, that scent providing a sort of peace like a balm to my waning sanity.
But then I remembered where I was by the sounds of chattering below, echoing up the stairs into the room. The feeling of peace from another person was toxic, like it was to my mother and father. Look where they’d ended up.
“You need to go. I’m sorry, Mia, but I’m not what you need. What we had was great, but I don’t want you anymore.” My voice was cold, as was the feeling inside my chest, the chill of it settling over my skin. Breaking inside like the splintering of ice on a winter’s pond under pressure.
“How about you let me decide what I need? I’ll see you tomorrow, Logan.”
She kissed me again, and like the asshole I was, I closed my eyes, pressing my lips to hers in a final good-bye kiss. I wasn’t going down this path again. Love had only hurt me. My marriage had nearly destroyed me as a person, and this pain of my parents choosing life over loving me was too much for me to bear. One more shard to my chest disguised as love would be my ending. Mia would try to make me see differently; I believed that. So, I would have to make her believe me, even as my heart was breaking with every word to push her away.
I’d given her everything she needed to move on, to find someone who deserved her. To be happy. I just didn’t think she’d be putting my words to real-life application without me by her side.
Love was indeed complicated.
I glanced at her one last time as our lips parted. My blue gaze meeting her determined gray focus on me.
“You shouldn’t have fallen for me,” I told her, wishing it were true right now. My fingers gripping the bottle in my hand, as I was ready to down the rest of its contents to forget this moment and every one of them that had come before it.
“I did, and now, you’re mine, Logan Woodland. Even the drunk asshole version of you.” She turned and left without another word.
I couldn’t get the drink to my lips fast enough. Ready to not feel this pain in my chest—hell, this ache threatening my bones, shattering my mind into unrepairable pieces.
