“I didn’t think it was that bright,” I mumble. “Sorry.” I slouch down in bed and stare up at the ceiling, my heart racing from being caught.
Fuck, did she read the poem?
“You didn’t answer me,” she says. “Were you drawing me?”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep myself from growling in frustration. Of course, she’s not going to drop it. When has she ever dropped anything?
“What did it look like?” I ask.
“It looked like you were drawing me. And I’m wondering why?”
“I don’t know, Lilly, maybe because despite the apparent hatred between us, I still think about you constantly.”
That leaves her silent for a moment. I’m about to turn on my side, away from her, when she says, “Why do you say things like that, Keller? You know it only hurts me.”
“Me saying I still think about you, hurts you?” I ask, bewildered.
“Yes,” she says, sitting up on one elbow to look at me. When her beautiful face comes into view, I have this primal instinct to close my hand behind her head and bring her mouth down to mine, to erase all of the bad energy between us. “It hurts me. It confuses me. It makes me believe that there still could be a you and me.”
“There still could be,” I say. “There very much could be a you and me, but right now . . . there’s a you and someone else.”
“Is that what you’re really tied up on?” she asks.
“Yes,” I nearly shout. “Jesus Christ, Lilly. Yes! You chose to go out with someone else. When I saw the news that you were with another man, it gutted me.” My throat grows tight, so I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. “Seeing you walking with someone else other than me is an image that will be burned in my brain, forever.”
A confused look passes over her face as she says, “Then . . . then if you cared so much, why did you leave, Keller?”
I bite down on my lower lip and stare up at the ceiling. “Sometimes, we don’t have a choice in the matter.”
I turn away from her, tucking my pillow under my head and trying to get comfortable, even though I know it will probably be another restless night.
“What does that even mean?” she asks.
I don’t answer.
I don’t know how to answer without getting into everything, and honestly, I’m too fucking raw right now to get into it.
I know the moment she gives up, because she shifts on the bed, turning away from me. I can tell from the way the bed dips. Once again, she’s up against the edge, and for the first time since we’ve shared this bed, there’s actually room, because both of us are trying to keep our distance as much as we can.
She’s keeping her heart at a distance, which is the very reason I’m keeping the truth at a distance. Until I have that heart of hers back, I can’t possibly earn her love back through sympathy.
I want it because that’s how she truly feels about me, no other reason.
* * *
“Morning,”Lilly says from the bedroom door, where she stands, wearing one of my shirts again. I’m surprised she’s even talking to me right now after how things went last night.
“Morning,” I say from the kitchen, cup of coffee in hand.
She saunters into the kitchen and lifts onto the counter, where she takes a seat, her legs dangling against the cabinets. I lift my cup of coffee to my lips as I take her in. Her shoulders are slumped, and she twists her hands in her lap before she glances up at me.
“I don’t know why you left the night before our wedding. Not sure you’ll ever tell me, but I want to tell you this.” She takes a deep breath. “I’ve never felt the depth of pain I felt the moment I read your letter. That pain will be greater than anything I ever experience in life, greater than the day I lost my parents, greater than the day I’ll lose Theo and Katla. My heart chose you, Keller, and when you left, you ripped my heart out with you.” She speaks softly, without anger, just clearly so I understand.
I set my coffee down, and I place my hands behind me on the counter, gripping it tightly. When I glance up at her, I catch the emotion in her eyes, the damage I’ve done.
“I’m . . . I’m sorry, Lilly,” I say. Even though it was completely out of my control, she still deserves that apology.
She just nods, then hops off the counter, moving over to the coffee pot right next to me. Her hair brushes up against my chest as she pours herself a cup. I’m tempted to grab her by the waist and pull her into my embrace, to run my lips along her jaw to her mouth, to let her know how sorry I am that she was hurt.
