As I watch him pick up a box of pasta and examine the label, all I can think about is what would happen if I did. Where would I go? How would I survive? He’d come looking for me. I know he would. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, wondering when he’ll show up. He’d kill me. There’s no doubt in my mind.
At least when I’m with him, I know what to expect. There are no surprises.
I hate that this is my life.
I hate that I’m too scared to change it.
But most of all, I hate that even now, with my wrist throbbing and my heart racing with fear, a tiny part of me is still thinking about Logan.
Still wishing I were brave enough to want something better.
Preston tosses the box of pasta into the cart and turns back toward me. “Baby, you look tired. Did you have a long day at work?” He steps closer, brushing a piece of my hair behind my ear like we’re the picture of normal.
I give him a small smile and a shake of my head. “No, I’m fine.”
“Are you behind with school? I told you working and finishing classes is too much. Have you talked to your employers yet about quitting?”
“I’m not tired, I promise,” I say. “I was just thinking. I haven’t been able to speak to them yet, but I will soon.”
“You need to,” he says, and it’s not a suggestion.
Before I can take a breath, he pulls me into a hug. My body’s first instinct is to tense, to recoil from the sudden closeness, but I force myself to soften just enough that he won’t notice. He would notice. He always does. I fold myself into the space he creates and hope it passes for something warm.
He kisses the top of my head. “Do you know how much I love you?”
“Yes.”
“And how much do you love me?” he asks.
“More than words.” I lift my chin and offer a smile that feels too light for the weight in my chest.
“Good.” His arms tighten briefly, satisfied. “You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, right? There’s nowhere I won’t go to find you and protect you and keep you safe. You are everything to me, Tessa.”
“I know.” The words come out thin and unsteady. The tremor in my voice betrays me, but it makes him smile, as if he hears devotion instead of something smaller and lodged deep.
He presses his lips to mine. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you, too,” I whisper back and meet his kiss with one of my own, careful and measured.
He drapes an arm around my shoulders and steers the cart with the other. “Come on, let’s get this over with so we can go home. I want to spend every minute of this evening with you. Preferably with a little less clothing.” He tugs gently at the drawstring of my hoodie, playful on the surface, but the motion catches against the side of my throat.
It’s supposed to feel flirty. That’s how he means it. But it sits cold, settling under my skin like a warning, tightening there. The part of me that used to find comfort in his attention goes very still.
I grew up with very little attention. Preston’s love bombing at the beginning of our relationship made me feel whole andbrought me a level of security I’ve never known. I thought I’d hit the jackpot. After years of sadness, I’d been rewarded with the perfect man. I fell hard and fast for Preston.
It wasn’t until he had his clutches deep into me that I realized his version of love wasn’t a reward at all but a curse. At the same time, I understood that there were much worse things than being alone.
CHAPTER
SIX
LOGAN
My heart’s already racing, and the coffee shop is barely in view. Sweat slicks my palms against the steering wheel as I pull into a parking spot along the curb. I’m starting to wonder if I’m going through some sort of identity crisis.
One minute, I’m hooking up with a different girl several nights a week, and the next, I’m basically celibate and semi-stalking a woman with a boyfriend who happens to make decent coffee. Which, if I’m honest, I couldn’t care less about the coffee.
Some people love coffee and live for their daily cup. For me, it’s just an occasional pick-me-up. I don’t crave it or even drink it regularly.
