Louisa swallowed again, trying to keep her composure, loath to cry. She swiped a hand in the air. “That’s different.”
“How?” he bit out.
“You want to know the reality of loving someone? Fine.” She drew in another breath. “I watched my father slowly die, my heart shattering piece by piece, day by day. And at the end of it all, the few battered pieces that remained were dulled as I watched my mother retreat into herself—closing herself away in her room, unable to face the day without him by her side. That is what love gets a person.” She took a deep breath. “And it scares me.”
Robert took a step closer. “Do you know what scares me, Louisa? That one day I will die, and you won’t shed a single tear. How’s that for irony? We fear the opposite ends of the same problem. To care or not to care. Which hurts us more in the end? To live a life without love, a heart so hardened that it goes on as it always has. Or,”—he took her chin in his hand—“live life to the fullest, enjoying every moment with a heart so open that it keeps expanding and growing.”
His thumb brushed just beneath her lip, and her eyes fluttered closed. “But what if, at the end of it all, we break?” Her words came out as a whisper, unable to keep her voice even anymore.
“At least you have those memories to hold on to forever. I don’t know about you, but I would rather have the latter. I choose you. I choose us, Louisa.”
She pinched her mouth shut. His words should have been a balm to her aching heart, but all it did was cause a war within her.
“I think I should leave.” Robert’s words startled her eyes open.
“Leave? The house?” She cleared her throat, then looked at the floor—anything to not have to stare into his eyes. “Very well. If you feel that is best.”
“Aren’t you going to ask me why?”
No. She didn’t think she could handle knowing why. “Fine.” She swallowed, taming the ache in her throat. “Why are you leaving?”
He tipped her chin up so she had to look into his eyes. “Because if I leave, you might find you miss me. And if you do—perhaps that will be enough for me.”
He leaned closer, softly pressing his lips to hers. She melted into him for the briefest of moments before she put her hand to his chest and gently pushed him back.
“I can’t do this.” Louisa couldn’t bear any more of his sweet kisses when she was actively trying to ward him off. Tears pricked her eyes, but she pinched her lids shut, successfully sending them back to where they belonged. Where no one could see them. When she was assured she would not cry, she fixed her gaze back on him.
Robert lifted his head, putting a small bit of space between them. He was not going to let this go. He was not willing to give up on them, and she didn’t have the strength to keep fighting. She was tired. Bone deep. Soul deep.
“I’m willing to wait.” His deep voice caressed her in waves, begging to coax the tears from her eyes that she was trying desperately to keep contained.
She brought a hand to her throat, cradling it to hide her hard swallows as she attempted to remain in control of her emotions. “Please, Robert. Please don’t do this.”
“Leave?” He watched her from beneath his lowered brow as his hand found her waist. “I don’t have to.”
Louisa gave her head a quick shake. “No. You don’t have to chase me. I don’t require your love.”
“You may not require it, but you already have it.”
That was the last straw. Her eyes fluttered closed, but not in time to stop a single tear from slipping past her barrier, gliding down her cheek. A hot streak of betrayal was left in its wake, revealing feelings she desperately wished to bury.
Robert’s warm palm cradled her face as his thumb gently swiped the salty tear away. “I’m sorry I pushed you. I will wait, Louisa. We have our entire lives ahead of us, do we not?”
She inhaled a quivering breath. “If we are lucky. Not everyone has a long life ahead of them. Fate can be a cruel mistress.”
“Or . . .” Robert’s hand slid down her neck, shoulder, arm, until he took her hand in his. “Perhaps fate has other plans for us.”
Her throat strained as she held in a sob, forcing a soothing, shuddering breath before speaking. “I think I need to go to my room.” Her words came out in a rush, her voice barely audible as she tried to say the words before the inevitable happened.
Robert took another step back, dipping his head. “If you believe that is what you need to do, then go. I—I won’t push you anymore.”
She spun about and practically ran to her room, throwing the door closed behind her.
And then Louisa curled up on top of her bed . . . and wept.
Chapter twenty-seven
Robert spent the daynumbly going about his duties. He planned to remove himself as soon as possible, but with the House of Lords still in session, he had other responsibilities here. Perhaps he could rent a room somewhere, but the thought of wallowing in his own self-pity while in a dim, dirty apartment did not sound appealing. He would avoid Louisa and give her space, and then leave when he could.
