My voice breaks. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been stubborn and left without making things right with you."
She wipes her cheek. "Which is why you'll do it again when push comes to shove."
"No, I won't." I move to sit closer to her. "Tell me you don't still love me."
She stares ahead, staying silent.
"Stop fighting us." I press a kiss to her shoulder, then her neck. I reach for her chin to turn her toward me.
She twists away, climbing off the bed and grabbing her clothes. "I'm sorry, Wyatt. But I can't do this again."
"Willow—"
"No more motel rooms. No more secrets. No more pretending we're the same people we used to be and that our love survived the explosion." She pulls her jeans on.
I get out of bed, emotions raw and on full display when I say, "We're not pretending. This is real. And our love did survive."
She throws her shirt over her head, then tightens her wrap. She brushes tears from her cheeks. "I have to go."
I step in front of her, blocking the door. "Take a breather, Willow."
"I'm not doing this again, Wyatt. I'm an all-or-nothing woman, and you already showed you can't handle that," she declares.
"I'm all-in. I always have been," I insist.
She scoffs. "We hid from my family for three years. You call that all-in?"
Shame fills me as I stare at her.
Her chest rises and falls as heavy as a marathon runner's. She seethes in a trembling voice, "You think I didn't want to scream our relationship from the rooftops? That I was yours? I had to lie to everyone I loved and pretend you were just my brother's best friend. I had to act like I hadn't already given you everything."
I swallow hard around the lump in my throat as guilt strangles my lungs. "I'll admit I was afraid of ruining my friendship with Jagger. But what stopped me was losing your dad's respect. I wasn't enough. Not yet. But I did want to become a man good enough for you."
She shouts, raw and painful, "You were enough! But you didn't think I was enough for you. That's the real truth."
"Not true."
"Then why didn't you stay and fight for us?"
I cautiously step closer to her. "The past is the past, Willow. I can't undo my mistakes. But I'm fighting for you now."
She shakes her head, eyes filled with glassy betrayal. "It's too late."
I reach for her, but she sidesteps me, grabs the keys, and yanks open the door. The morning's chill blasts past the door, biting my skin.
She pauses on the threshold. "You can't love me the way I need you to. And I can't keep letting you halfway in."
"Willow—"
"I'll be in the truck." She steps outside and slams the door.
For a moment, I stand still, naked and stunned, the scent of her still clinging to my skin. The echo of her heartbreak pounds louder than my own, and I don't know how to fix this.
The sound of my truck's engine pulls me out of my trance.
I dress quickly. My jeans feel like sandpaper, my boots too stiff. Nothing fits right, whether it's my clothes or my damn life.
When I get to the truck, she's already in the passenger seat, arms crossed and eyes aimed straight ahead.
