Ten minutes to leave behind months of building a relationship that quickly became my new center of gravity.
Regardless of where we end up, Clover will always be my foundation.
My hand hovers over the door handle. I can’t catch my breath—each short pant burns, a wildfire exposing all my cracked beams. Leaving this room is a pain worse than death.
Fuck.
I can’t just leave her. Not after all the time Clover invested in the memory of me.
Clover’s faith in me kept her writing letters I never responded to.
A letter.Is that what she needs?
I imagine her reading my words, apologies with no sound, and I vanquish the thought before it even fully forms.
Writing her a letter would be the coward’s way out. She needs more from me. She needs me to absorb her pain, so I will.
Face-to-face.
I owe it to her to witness her pain—to look her in the eyes and see exactly what I’ve done.
So with a heavy heart and heavier feet, I carry myself down to the porch where she still sits.
She pops up as if she were waiting for me. The guarded love in her eyes destroys me. I broke the unwavering trust she once had in me.
I’m not sure where Chief has run off to, but I’m thankful for the privacy as I hand her my heart.
“What?” She stares at the duffel bag in my hand as though it’s attacking her. “Valen.” Tears slide down my face. “Don’t.” More tears well in hers. “Don’t do this.”
“I—” Speaking has never been more painful.
“Don’t fucking do this,” she growls. “You don’t get to do this to me. Do you hear me?” she shouts.
Yeah, Honeybee. I hear you. I’ve never heard you so clearly.
“I have to.” The words don’t even sound like my own. They’re desperate and raw and so full of emotion it’s hard to swallow. “What I’ve done is unforgivable, but forcing you to work through your feelings while staring at me every day is selfish, Clover. You deserve to work through the betrayals of your life without me breathing down your neck.”
“You don’t get to make that decision for me.” Her voice echoes off the empty street, and I almost cave. I almost reach for her.
But that would be selfish too.
“I—I’m sorry,” I choke out. Her chin trembles, and I’ve never hated myself more. “You—you’ve always been so good with your words, Clover. I’m better with actions.”
Her face pales, but I don’t allow my gaze to drift. I memorize her heartache. How it wrecks her beautiful eyes. The sounds she makes when she hiccups. This will all be the new reel in my mind that I call on anytime I’m tempted to reach for her.
“I can’t undo the past, Honeybee. But I can give you the only thing I have left to offer—peace. Space. Room to heal without looking at the face of the person who created your pain.”
Clover reaches out lightning-fast and holds on to my arm with both hands. She uses her body weight to stop my retreat, and it’s as though I feel my muscles tearing, trying to stay with her. When she digs in her heels and sits back with all her weight, I gently pry her fingers off me. Each finger removed crushes the fragments of hope I had left.
I’m doing this for you, Honeybee. Please. Please believe that.
“Don’t do this, you fucking coward. Don’t leave me all alone in this pain,” she cries, and every shred of humanity I have is sucked away by the devil himself. “That’s not fair. It’s not fair,” she screams.
Sterling and Greyson crash through the front door with Wrecks whining at their side. They look as horrified by my actions as I am.
“It’s not fair,” she screams again. Greyson runs to her, and I think Sterling is ready to kill me. Good, they need to be on her side.
“I know,” I cry. “I know it’s not.” I fist my hair and look to the sky, to some God I hope exists, but there are no answers there.
