He nods slowly. "If I could go back and beat the shit out of that kid, I would. But I can't, Willow."
I quietly study his stubble and the new scar on his chin.
He offers, "In fairness, I didn't see any other way."
"I could have gone with you," I remind him.
He scoffs. "And given up everything you worked for?"
"I could have transferred, and you know it."
He sighs. "And what would I have told your father?I'm in love with your daughter but have nothing to offer her?"
"That wasn't the truth," I protest.
"It was. I thought I'd make something of myself and come back for you, but all I did was lose you."
The heater kicks on, breaking the silence that's settled in the room in the wake of his words. It pushes a wave of soap, pine, sweat, and arousal around us.
He laces our fingers together, asserting, "I meant it about my gift."
My stomach flips. I bite on my lip, pinning my eyebrows together.
He rises and lifts the covers, ordering, "Slide under."
Not knowing what else to do, I obey.
He slips in next to me, and demands, "Turn over."
I glance at him, my lips twitching with amusement. "You want to cuddle?"
"Yep. And I want to wake up beside you and pretend, for a few hours, that I didn't mess this up beyond repair."
The hairs on my arms rise. I bite my tongue, afraid of what might come out of my mouth.
"You're supposed to say it's not beyond repair," he states in a flat tone, his gaze narrowing on mine.
Guilt, hope, regret, and fear all plague me. I kiss him on the lips and quickly turn onto my side, pushing my back into him.
He sighs into my hair, tugging me closer and holding me tighter. He kisses my cheek, then the back of my neck.
I close my eyes and pretend that none of this ever broke, wishing it were easy to move forward without any worries.
But I know what Wyatt's capable of. I've experienced how easily he can break me, and there's no way to forget it.
He strokes my jaw, kisses behind my ear, and says, "You're not keeping my gift from me anymore, sugar."
I close my eyes and inhale his scent. I eventually fall into a deep sleep where I dream of a world where Wyatt and I live happily ever after, and the last seven years never happened.
I don't know how long I'm asleep before his hot breath hits my ear as he coos, "Wake up, sugar."
I blink a few times. The dingy room and the green and red blinking lights on the tree come into view.
I'm at the motel.
With Wyatt.
I freeze, except for my rapidly thrumming pulse.
