“I’m sorry that I couldn’t ignore it,” she said, her voice quaking. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t strong enough… Foryou. Forhim.”
“Oh, Isabelle.” I reached for her hand, lacing my fingers between hers. “It’s not your fault. This is not your fault. There are a thousand reasons why we wouldn’t have worked…”
She stilled then, biting her lip. Her very French mouth. “Did Hayes know that?”
“I think he did. I think deep down he did.”
“Do you think he’s hurting this much, too?”
I nodded. “Yeah… I do. But he’s going to be okay.
“Love is this very precious thing, Izz. It’s this precious, magical thing. But it’s notfinite. There’s not a limited amount of it out there. You just have to be open to allowing it to find you. Allowing it to happen.” I was not entirely sure that I believed this, but I neededherto.
“And for a long time I closed myself off to it, because it was easier and safe… But I wasn’t necessarily happy.
“And Hayes is young. He has many, many years ahead of him. And he’s going to fall in love again. And again. Even if he doesn’t realize that right now, he will. Hayes is going to be okay. Promise.”
She was quiet for a long time, her breaths deep, even. “What about you?”
I managed to smile. Despite the tears, and the thrumming in my head and the wrenching in my chest, I managed to smile. “I’m going to be okay, too.”
It was late the following Thursday when I heard from him again. Out of nowhere, shortly after midnight, he texted.
Open your door.
I thought it might have been a prank. They were supposed to be in Europe. But sure enough, he was there, on my doorstep. His eyes were swollen, and my first thought was that he’d been in another fight with Oliver. And then I realized he’d been crying.
“What are you doing here? What are you doing here, Hayes?”
“I had to see you.” His voice raspy, low, brought back every sweet memory. My happiness, my love.
“What about the tour? You justleft?”
He was looking beyond me, into the house; lost, it seemed. “We have three days off.”
“So you flew here? Hayes, I can’t… You can’t be here.”
“Please let me in. Please, Solène.” His eyes were brimming. He looked to me at once young and old. His tortured face a harsh reminder that I’d destroyed us.I’ddone this.I’ddone this.
I stepped aside and shut the door behind him. “Isabelle is here. She’s sleeping.”
“I won’t wake her. I promise.”
“Hayes, we can’t do this…”
He wasn’t listening to me. His hands were in my hair, at my neck, caressing the sides of my face as he inhaled me, and kissed me, thoroughly, passionately, completely.
“What are you doing? We can’t do this.” Even as I said it, I was aware my body was communicating otherwise. Melting into him. His hand beneath my T-shirt. The feel of his skin on mine. His mouth. Hayes Campbell. Like a fucking drug.
“I love you. I fucking love you so much. You cannot leave,” he whispered. “Tell me you don’t feel this, Solène. Tell me you don’t want this…”
I shushed him. My finger on his lips. “You’re going to wake Isabelle.”
He stopped, his eyes peering into mine in the half-light. Pleading. And before I’d registered what I was doing I had taken his hand and led him down the hall.
It happened fast, the first time.
I did not regret it. Not feeling his weight on top of me, and his hips between my thighs, and smelling him—familiar. His mouth moving over mine, and his fingers gripping my hair, and his dick… filling me. Fulfilling me.
