“You can’t just show up and say pretty words and expect me to forgive you.”
“I know that, too.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
I don’t have an answer. For the first time in my life, I don’t have a plan. I don’t have a strategy. I just have this—standing in a mediocre hotel room, holding the face of the woman I’ve wronged, hoping she’ll give me a chance to make it right.
“Whatever you need,” I tell her. “Whatever it takes. I’ll do it.”
“I need time.”
“Okay.”
“I need you to stop making decisions for me.”
“Okay.”
“And I need you to understand that this isn’t fixed just because you showed up.” She pulls back from my hands. “I’m still angry. I’m still hurt. And I don’t know if I can trust you not to do this again.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?” She crosses her arms again, putting distance between us. “Because we’ve been here before. You say all the right things, and then you do whatever you want anyway.”
“That’s not—”
“It is.” Her voice hardens. “And until you prove otherwise, words are just words.”
We stand there, staring at each other across the small hotel room. The distance between us feels enormous.
“So where does that leave us?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “I honestly don’t know.”
Chapter 23 - Kirsten
The silence stretches between us like a living thing.
Menlow stands across the room, watching me with those blue eyes that have haunted me since the day I met him. He’s waiting for me to say something. To give him direction. To tell him what comes next.
But I’m stuck on something he said earlier. Something that didn’t fully register until just now.
“You said I’m everything.”
He blinks. “What?”
“Before. You said I’m not just an obligation or responsibility. You said I’m everything. What did you mean by that?”
“I meant…” He trails off and drags his knuckles over his jaw. “I meant what I said.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Kirsten—”
“Say it.” My voice comes out so strong and demanding, it surprises even me. “Whatever you’re dancing around, whatever you’re too scared to admit, just say it. Because I’m tired of guessing. I’m tired of trying to read between the lines and getting it wrong.”
He stares at me for a long moment. I can see him wrestling with himself, that iron control of his warring with something deeper. Something he’s been trying to keep locked away.
“I love you.”
