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Chapter Eighteen
Griffin stared out his office window onto Revival’s Main Street, unable to concentrate on the proposal for new streetlamps that sat in front of him. His mind kept wandering to Darcy. Last night and all the things he’d done to her. All the things he wanted to do to her.
He didn’t delude himself where Darcy was concerned. She wouldn’t stay. He’d learned that lesson when he was eighteen and he’d tried so hard to convince her. She’d never wavered, and she’d never looked back.
She couldn’t come home, and he couldn’t leave.
That left them with no future.
He held no illusions he’d change her mind.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be with her while she was here. Griff knew how fast life could change, and he didn’t take it for granted. He wasn’t going to waste time with her to save himself the hurt when she walked away.
Last night he’d realized all those things he’d been telling himself all these years were bullshit.
He’d never really gotten over her.
All those times he’d never allowed himself to date any of the women in Revival wasn’t because he was protecting his reputation, but because they weren’t Darcy.
And after all this time, he still loved her. Had never stopped loving her.
So he might not be able to have her, but he wouldn’t waste one second with her.
He’d recover. He always did. But he’d hold fast while he had her.
The intercom rang, and Mrs. Weller’s disapproving voice came over the line. “Darcy Miller’s here to see you. I told her you were busy, but she insisted.”
Griffin smiled. Speak of the devil. “Send her in.”
Mrs. Weller huffed and hung up.
He laughed, but it died in his throat when Darcy walked into his office. Face affixed in a remote mask, she refused to meet his eyes.
His chest gave a hard squeeze. There weren’t going to be any more nights.
Last night was the only one.
He wouldn’t even have her for a little while.
She walked up to his desk, an envelope in her hand. When she stopped, she shifted on her feet.
She didn’t want to say the words, so he’d say them for her. He sat back in his chair and said softly, “You’re leaving.”
She blinked and looked down at his desk before nodding.
“Why?” Although he already knew, he just wanted to see if she had the balls to admit it.
She dropped the envelope into the center of his desk. “My mom signed the papers this morning to sell the house. There’s no reason to stay.”
“I see.” He picked up the packet and put it aside. “Last night wasn’t a reason?”
She sucked in a breath that sounded like it got lodged in the middle of her throat. “What do you want me to say? We have no future.”
He couldn’t force her to stay. Wouldn’t beg her like he’d done the last time. If she wanted to go, he wasn’t going to stand in her way, but he’d at least make her call it for what it was. “You’re running away.”
She shook her head. “I’m saving us from getting hurt.”
“You’re being a coward.”
