I screw my eyes shut, knowing exactly who it will be.
Max.
The buzzer sounds again, longer this time, like he’s holding it down. I stare at the intercom, my heart in my throat, desperately wanting to see him but terrified it’ll destroy Anna even further.
My legs feel barely attached as I rise and walk to the window. Peering out through sheets of rain, I see Max. Soaked to the bone, standing at the front steps.
He looks up and we lock eyes.
“GEMMA!” he calls. “GEMMA!”
I want to go to him. I want to run down the stairs, throw open the door, and fall into his arms like every stupid romance movie. I wantso badlyto believe that love is enough.
But how can it be when it hurts the people you care about the most?
How can something so pure and so beautiful be so breakable?
It feels like my heart is tethered to his, and wherever he goes, I’ll follow.
But I need to cut the cord. I need to let him go. I can’t ruin my friendship with Anna. She asked me to stay away from her brother, and I didn’t. I lied to her. Snuck around behind her back like a teenager. I broke her trust.
If I have to choose between them, then I choose Anna.
And all I can do is cry. Because I love Max. I do, with everything I have. But Ican’t.
“GEMMA!” His voice carries through the downpour.
The buzzer goes silent, and for a devastating second, I think he’s given up.
Then the pounding starts. His fist slams against the building front door loud enough to wake the whole bloody street.
“I know you’re in there. Open the door!”
A cry leaves my body before I can stop it.
“I’m not leaving until you open this door! I’ll stay here all night if I have to!”
Of course he will, the stubborn bastard.
Be strong, Gemma.
Before I can talk myself out of it, my feet carry me across the room and down the stairs.
He stands there, drenched and beautiful, rainwater dripping from his hair and down his face. The hallway light catches each droplet. His clothes cling to his broad shoulders.
His eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks are flushed, chest heaving as if he’s run miles to reach me.
“Did you run here?” I ask, looking past him to the storm raging outside.
“I love you,” he says simply.
“Max,” I whisper, closing my eyes. I can’t witness the raw honesty in his gaze. I can’t bear the weight of it.
He crosses the threshold, and his hands find my biceps with urgency.
“I love you,” he repeats, his voice dropping lower.
The words impale me as my breath scrapes in and out of my lungs.
