“Tate,” he murmurs.
I ignore the pang in my heart at the emotion that’s crept into his tone.
It’s all an act. But I don’t see why he’s insisting on dragging it out. He can walk out of here and forget about me. Just like he planned to do all along. He has no reason to stay. No reason to be staring at me from where he’s towering in front of me like a dark-suited inferno, brimming with tension that makes it appear like he’s barely holding himself together.
If he’s going to stay here, prolonging it, then he can listen to my next words. Maybe he needs to hear them as much as I need to say them.
I whisper softly, sadness overtaking the hurt in my voice. “You’re a coward, Sullivan Beaufort. A beautiful coward who doesn’t know how to let someone love him and his daughter.”
A muscle twitches in his cheek, his eyes penetrating deep into my soul.
But I’ve locked him out of it now.
I won’t let him hurt me again.
He speaks slowly through gritted teeth. “You’re right, Tate. I am a coward.”
I inhale sharply as he reaches up and brushes the backs of his fingers down my cheek with aching tenderness.
“I am a coward,” he repeats. “Because I was fuckingterrifiedof you. Terrified of what you staying could have done to me.”
I freeze as he leans closer, his breath fanning over my face. He pauses with his lips inches from mine.
“Happy now, Baby?” he asks in a strained whisper.
My mouth falls open, and I struggle to take a breath, let alone answer him.
His eyes burn into mine, and he licks his lips, making me shiver like an idiot.
Then he storms off, throwing open the door with a punch as he leaves.
43
SULLIVAN
How fucking dare she?
She thinks she doesn’t have talent? That the label only wanted her because I bought them? She blamed it all on me, using me as her scapegoat for giving up. She could have had it all. Everything that being with me could never give her.
“I hated it.”
“Me being gone was your dream.”
“Jesus Christ.” I slam my head into my hands, scrunching up the roots of my hair and slumping forward.
Cliff wisely put the privacy screen up the moment I threw myself into the backseat of the car after work, sensing I needed space on the drive to Seasons where I’m going to meet my father and collect Molly.
Tate has no idea why I can’t be with her the way I wish I could. I would kill for the chance to be able to live my life how I wanted to. But it’s more complicated than that. Just like I told her it was.
I thought the tour would make her happy. Make her forget about us. I hoped it would ease my guilt at having lied to herfor so long.
I’m a deluded asshole, because it’s achieved nothing except making her hate me.
I yank my tie loose as the memory of her calling me a coward assaults me, making my chest tighten. I screw my eyes shut, rubbing them. But it’s no use. The disappointment and hurt in her eyes are seared into the backs of my eyelids.
Something new to add to the nightmares.
My phone rings and I pull it out, my jaw clenching at the name on the screen.
