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“So it’s not that you’re afraid of turning out like her?”

I shook my head.

“Explain something to me,” he said. “Why was it so hard to let yourself go with me?”

“I was afraid once I let myself love you, I would lose you,” I said right away. “And I didn’t think I could handle it.”

“Are you sure this isn’t the same thing? You’re not afraid of loving a baby too much?”

“It does scare me. That I would be responsible for this being, and there would be no second chances, no room for mistakes.”

“All parents make mistakes. Jessa does all the time.”

I smiled. “I know. But it’s more than that. My instinct says it’s not the path for me, and I know what you say about instincts . . . .”

He nodded.

“But, David, if the alternative is losing you . . .” I searched his eyes, the eyes that had the ability to melt away all my fears and doubts. “I could do it,” I whispered.

“I would never let you do that for me.”

“I know.”

“Fuck,” he said, dropping his head in his hands. “I never gave it much thought, but I always thought I would have kids.”

“It’s the only reason the proposal scared me.” I wrapped my hand around his wrist, and he raised his head to look at me. “But I want you to know that I wouldn’t change anything about the decisions I’ve made. I would leave my life behind all over again for the short time we’ve had together.”

He arched an eyebrow at me. “You don’t think I’d give up that easily, do you? Give me some fucking credit.”

“You have to give up,” I said, withdrawing my hand. More tears spilled from my eyes when I said, “The sooner we end this, the better.”

“What the fuck?” he asked. “Is that what you want?”

“No! Of course that’s not what I want!” I sobbed. “I want you all to myself for the rest of my life. I want to quit my job and travel the world with you and eat and drink and fuck and love you forever. I want to go to Spain and lie on the beach and eat oysters and dance flamenco and write my book, but this is real life, David! This is not a dream or a fantasy! What choice do we have?”

“I want those things too.”

“You say that now, but you don’t know what you’d be giving up. Because I love you, and I want your own happiness more than my own, I can’t take this away from you.” I paused and then crawled into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. He reclined with me onto the bed, his head on his pillow and mine on his chest.

“But I love you,” he said, almost under his breath.

I wanted

to claw open my chest and rip out my heart so I could give it to him. Take it. Take it all, because I will never need it again. I don’t want it.

I wasn’t sure if he fell asleep, but his hold on me never loosened. This was my dream, my fantasy, my heaven, my nightmare, to be bound and wound with a love as strong as this.

When light began to filter through the shades, I sat up. He was awake. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “We have to go if we’re going to make our flight.” Then he crawled out of the bed, disappearing into the shower.

I knotted my tangled hair back and brushed my teeth. My raccoon eyes were red and puffy and I fleetingly thought: this is exactly how I imagined I would look at the end.

CHAPTER 28

IT WAS SNOWING when we returned to Chicago. The stark contrast from Miami wasn’t only apparent in the weather. David and I had traveled in relative silence. He was attentive as always, making sure I was comfortable during the flight, but I could tell that he was deep in thought. I, on the other hand, finally had nothing left to think about.

We’d booked an early flight with the intention of both going in to work, but I called in sick and didn’t have the energy to care what Beman said about it. David, however, went straight from the airport to the office after he’d put me in a cab with our luggage.

I spent the day in the den, watching movies in the dark, because the alternative was worrying myself sick. I hated being in limbo, not knowing how things would go. I couldn’t see anything beyond the end of us. David was right: I did see him in my future, and I had seen him in that house so didn’t that mean something?

My anxiety thickened when the third movie ended, and I realized it was nearing ten o’clock at night. He still wasn’t home. I pulled my phone from the coffee table. It revealed nothing from David, but there was an e-mail from Lucy. I stared at my inbox a moment before putting the phone back, deciding I wasn’t in the right state of mind.

I’d just started another movie when I heard a noise. I immediately hit pause and looked up at David from the couch. “You’re home,” I said dumbly.

He nodded. His tie was loosened, hair tousled and his hands were shoved into his trouser pockets.

“It’s late,” I added.

“I was looking for something,” was all he said. I understood. He’d been out looking for answers all day and I’d been here, numbing myself with nothingness and not making plans or decisions as I should’ve been. I hoped David would find his answers soon, because it killed me to see him this way. “I’m exhausted,” he said.

I reached for the remote, shut the TV off and went to stand. “Let’s go to bed.”

“No.”

I paused at his tone. It was angry. Since I had turned off the TV, the only light in the room came from the doorway behind him, turning him into a silhouette. I sank back into the couch. “Oh.”

“I fired Arnaud.”

My eyes widened. “What?”

“You were right. He tried to deny everything, called you a liar when I told him what you’d seen. But after some coercion, he admitted to pressuring Clare. Others too.” He stopped, and even in the semi-dark, I could sense his jaw clench and unclench. “The new girl said he threatened her on Friday. If she didn’t sleep with him, she’d be fired. That was when you showed up.”

I let out a small gasp as tears pricked my eyes.

“It’s my fault,” he said.

“It’s not your fault,” I told him. “You didn’t know.”

“I should’ve known. I let them down. And for those few moments on Friday, you were alone with him and I was on my way to New York.”

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