She shakes her head, blinking away the tears. “No, you can’t. She’ll be touch-starved for you in a matter of weeks. She was with Rhett. And even if it could be something possible,” she says, shaking her head, “you’ll still feel her. I’ll still see her. I’ll always wonder?—”
She cuts off all at once, swallowing her words.
Desperation claws at the pit of my stomach, making it nearly impossible to breathe.
“Wonder what?”
There’s a long stretch of silence. “I’ll wonder if it’s really me you want to be touching or if you’re just picturing her.”
The words hit me square in the chest, worse than any check to the boards I’ve ever taken. How could she think that? I’ve never once wished her to be anyone but herself.
“That’s not?—”
“Don’t,” she says harshly. “Do not try and tell me that you won’t. I’ve seen the way Omegas are around their scent matches, the way the Alphas can’t resist. Betas aren’t anything compared to that.”
Her words break. I lose my cool, all the frustration and self-hatred I’ve been drowning in for four days raising my voice until it flies across the room like a whip.
“But Ihaveproven that I won’t, haven’t I? That Idon’tpicture her or wish it was anyone but you. I’ve known for months at this point, and it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter when you started working with her and came home smelling like her every damn day. It didn’t matter when I fucked you to calm you down on Thanksgiving. And itabsolutelydidn’t matter when I bondedyou. You were all I thought of. Every time I’ve touched you, it’s only ever been you.” Her eyes soften for a heartbeat, widening. Surprise swells across the bond for a moment. “Itstilldoesn’t matter because I choose you. I chose you before I ever knew she existed, and I chose you afterward, too. I’ve chosen you every single day for over three years, and they’ve been the best three years of my damn life.”
She sucks in a breath. Her heartbreak roars through me, spreading through my limbs as her distrust settles just under my sternum like a blade between the ribs. I grab the counter to keep from shattering my plate out of frustration just to feel in control of something while my entire world burns down around me.
“I can’t change what happened,” I say, tears in my voice even if my eyes are clear. “God, Bee, if I could, I would. If I could go back and be five fucking minutes later to that damn shop, I would do it in a goddamn heartbeat. But Ican’t.”
My own voice breaks. Desperation claws through me.
She doesn’t say anything, her gaze going unfocused as her breathing hitches.
“I need space to figure this out.”
“Of course, Bee.” I soften my voice. “Whatever you?—”
She cuts me off.
“I’m…”
The column of her throat ripples as she swallows heavily. Nerves fly across our bond, and I want to puke.
“I’m flying back to Marley.”
The words rip through me, carving me into a husk of a man. I try to close the distance between us, but my legs don’t respond. Do I even have legs? Do I have hands and arms and a body at all? She grabs her bag from the front table, not looking at me.
“For how long?” My voice is empty, too.
Her gaze shutters as she focuses on me, her vulnerability hidden behind that crafted mask of indifference she wears like armor around strangers.
“I don’t know yet.”
Breathing is worse than slicing my palms on the blades of my skates. Fractured ice, frozen heart. Slowly, I manage a single nod. She turns away from me, crossing to the door at a near-run.
“Billie,” I whisper. She pauses with her hand on the doorknob, her shoulders tight. “I love you.”
She doesn’t look toward me. The silence stretches and pulls taut.
Then the door closes, and she’s… she’s gone.
I shove the plate off the counter, relishing in the way the porcelain shatters everywhere, scratching up my feet and legs. The cuts slowly ooze. For a minute, all I can see are the marks on my thumb bleeding as I cleaned them Friday night. Despair presses down on me, heavier than a ton of bricks.
I’ll always wonder if you’re picturing her.
