She blinks up at me, her brows pulling together in confusion. “What?”
“Anna… I can’t fight it anymore,” I growl, my voice rough and vulnerable. “I need you. All of you. Right here, right now. I just want to lose myself in you, every inch, every heartbeat.”
Her pulse hammers under my thumb. “You can’t say things like that.”
I frown. “Why not?”
“You can’t just decide you want me now and expect me to forget the years I spent learning how to breathe without you.” She drags in a shaky breath. “You fucking walked away from me, Landon.”
My jaw clenches, but I don’t let go of her face. I can’t. “I didn’t walk away because I stopped loving you. I walked away because I was a coward. Because I thought I wasn’t good enough to be the man you deserved. But damn it, Anna, I see it now. I was a fool. And I’d rather spend every damn day fighting for you than live another second without you.”
She swallows, her wounded gaze flicking away for the briefest second before returning to mine.
“You don’t get it, do you? You just don’t get to rewrite the past.”
“I’m not trying to rewrite it,” I snap, the ache in my chest tightening at the way she won’t even give us a chance. “I’m trying to fix it. To fixus.”
“We can’t just be fixed, Landon. We’re not some broken thing you can patch up with pretty words. You left me with pieces I had to learn to live with, and I don’t know if I can survive shattering all over again.”
The words hit harder than any punch I’ve ever taken.
“I’ll keep telling you I love you until you believe me. I’ll keep fighting for us, no matter what,” I murmur, close enough for her to feel the heat in my words.
For a moment, neither of us moves. The air between us is too thick to breathe. Then she steps back slowly. “I should change.”
“Yeah. You’re soaked.” My voice comes out hoarse, scraped raw from everything I’m trying to hold together.
We swim to the edge, and I push myself out, water dripping off my body. I turn back for her and bend down.
“Come on.” I extend my hand to her.
She hesitates, then finally slips her fingers into mine. I pull her up, her hand still locked in my grip. I don’t let go as we head inside, leaving a trail of water across the marble floor.
“Let me show you to your room,” I murmur, leading her to the guest room.
When we reach it, I open the door and gesture inside.
She steps in and her eyes sweep across the entire space. The king-sized bed neatly made with crisp white linens. A soft throw resting at the foot. Warm light spilling from a bedside lamp, softening the cream walls. A framed abstract painting hanging above the headboard. A tall bookshelf by the window, stacked with novels and a few travel journals. And a dark wooden dresser sitting against the opposite wall, polished to a soft shine.
“I’ll get you a shirt and shorts,” I add quietly.
She turns, her eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, I can’t tell if she’s about to argue about wearing my clothes or say something else entirely. In the end, she just gives a small nod.
I step out and head to my room. Reaching there, I pull a T-shirt and shorts from the cupboard. When I return, she’s standing in the middle of the guest room, a towel draped around her shoulders, damp hair spilling down her back and dripping onto the carpet.
My hands twitch with the need to touch her again, to feel her warmth against my palms, but I force myself to stay still.Every instinct screams at me to close the distance, but I hold back.
Dragging in a shaky breath, I step toward her and hold the clothes out. “Here, change before you catch a cold.”
“I will.” She takes them from me, and her fingers brush against mine, lingering for a second too long. I swallow hard and turn to leave before I do something stupid when her voice stops me.
“Landon.”
I turn, my chest tightening at the sound of my name on her lips.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
For a moment, I just stand there, and all I can think about is how much I’ve missed being the one she turned to for anything. I want to tell her she doesn’t need to thank me, that I’d give her anything and everything, without her even asking. But I keep my mouth shut, because if I start, I’m not sure I’ll know where to stop.
