“Campbell,” I mused. “I was looking for Ariana Ridley, but she didn’t exist.”
Her smile was tight before falling altogether, and then her eyes were back on her hands. “It’s probably a good thing you didn’t find me. Not like it would have mattered, anyway.”
She dug into the box.
Her words dug into my heart.
She was saying what I’d always assumed, but hoped, I was wrong about. Even if I had found her, she wouldn’t have wanted to see me. She wouldn’t have wanted me back in her life.
Could I blame her?
What was I expecting?
I left her to fight alone. Even if I did think it was the right thing to do, even if I somehow had proof that I would have jeopardized her case… did it matter?
Ileft.
I’d negated every promise of love and security I’d ever given her.
Whywouldshe give a fuck if I’d tried to find her when the hardest part was over?
My nose stung, chest aching with the pressure mounting against it. So long, I’d wanted to tell her how hard I’d looked for her. And now, I knew that it didn’t matter.
I needed to let it go — to lethergo. My time had passed. I’d fucked up my shot with her and I didn’t deserve another.
But now, she knew the truth. It was all there between us. She had the full story.
Maybe, if luck was on my side, she would at least afford me her friendship.
“Ari?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I hug you?”
Her eyes slid to mine, wide and soft and searching.
“I really need to hold you, Ari. Just for a moment. Please.”
There were so many unsaid words in her eyes flicking between mine.
“Just for a moment,” she echoed on a whisper.
I nodded, an unspoken promise to behave, and then I pulled her into me like a lifeline.
My arms enveloped her, the scent of her hair invading my nose as I closed my eyes and wrapped her up tight. I couldn’t pull her in enough. I couldn’t get close enough. I held her with the longing of two decades and the regret of one decision that had altered both our lives forever.
She was right.
It wasn’t my decision to make alone.
I’d acted like a fucking saint, sacrificing us at the altar like I’d be regarded a hero in the end.
Instead, I’d killed us — our youth, our innocence, our hope, our love.
The blood was on my hands even still.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered into her hair. “I shouldn’t have left. I was wrong. You deserved better. You deserved me staying and being there with you through all of it.”
