“Jesus.” Hunter dropped his hand and took a step back. “So what, we finish out our last twenty-four hours, then go back to how things were?”
“That’s what we agreed on,” she said. “You help me, I help you, and then we go back to our separate lives. Keep it simple. That was the promise.”
“I don’t give a shit about simple, I care about you, about making this work. So it might get complicated? So what? If life were simple, it’d be boring,” he said, and she ignored the misery in his plea, because she was drowning in her own.
“Don’t you get it? My world is simple. It has to be.” She wiped angrily at her cheek. “Boring is a delicacy. I would kill for boring. For the day when I can go to the store, cook supper, and maybe catch a movie and have it be so boring I don’t break out into a sweat. But that’s going to take me time. The kind of time that will consume another person’s life. I’ve lived that life, Hunter. I don’t want that for you.”
His voice went soft, so soft she felt her chest hollow out. “Have you ever considered what I want?”
“Hunter—”
“No.” He cut her off. “You’re so busy protecting this amazing life you think I have you’ve never once asked me what I want. Because if you had, I’d tell you that I wantyou, Mackenzie. I want you in my arms, my bed, in my life. Every fucking day.” He reached up, his fingertips skimming her cheek as he cupped her face, catching a tear with his thumb. “How is that for simple?”
Nothing about her life or this situation was simple. She knew that, and there was nothing she could do to change it. “Love is never simple.”
His voice softened, along with his touch. “No, it’s not. I’ve also learned that it’s not enough. But I’ve also learned that it’s a good place to start.” Hunter tilted her gaze toward his. “So the only question you need to be asking yourself is what do you want, Mackenzie?”
Another sob rose in her chest because she wanted everything.
To be happy and loved and unafraid. To be a part of something bigger than her limitations. She wanted to remember what it felt like to look forward to all the tomorrows. And look back on today feeling useful and strong.
And more than anything, she wanted her love to exist without conditions. And while Hunter’s love would come with limitless possibilities, hers would always bring boundaries.
“I want to know what it feels like to stand on my own two feet. No, Ineedit,” she said, choking on the pain of what she knew she was aboutto say. “I need to remember what it’s like to be capable. Just like I need for you to look back in a few years and not regret today.”
“Then don’t run away again,” he begged.
“I’m not running, Hunter. We’re just headed in different directions,” she said.
He was silent for so long Mackenzie’s heart was racing. “And here I thought I made it clear I was headed toward you,” he whispered. “You’re so stuck on sacrificing yourself in the fight for me you’ve completely missed that I’ve been fighting for us. I love you, Mackenzie, exactly how you are. The question is, do you love me?”
Yes,she wanted to cry. Everything she’d done was for love. The easy choice would be to take what he was offering. But love never came easily for Mackenzie.
“Hunter, I—”
“Enough said.” His hands fell away from her, and he took a step back—in more ways than one. “I guess you’re right, Trouble, we do want different things,” he said flatly. “You want to go back to the way things were. Problem is, I can’t.”
“So that’s it?” Panic began to curl itself around her. “There is no middle ground?”
“Love doesn’t work that way. It’s an all-in kind of thing. And I think you’re all-in, you’re just too scared to admit it,” he whispered, and she could sense his gaze on her face, lingering, memorizing. Then he pressed a heartbreakingly gentle kiss to her lips. “When you figure it out, I’ll be waiting.”
With that he headed toward the door. It slammed shut behind him, echoing through the empty stairwell. For a minute, she could hear him calling a ride for her, and then everything went quiet.
The silence was so final it resonated through her. Instinctually, her shoulders immediately straightened, back to the place where she could carry the weight of the world—only this time it felt heavier, as if she was going to buckle under the pressure.
She held strong to her decision, fighting the need to crumble. But she was so tired of fighting. For love, for her freedom, for life to finally go her way.
And suddenly, she was too tired to fight. A chill swept around her, clinging tighter with every second that passed. A sob worked its way out, racking her body, quickly followed by another, until her knees began to give way.
She reached back and found the handrail, lowering herself to the bottom step.
Muttley whimpered and pressed himself securely to her side.
Unable to hold back any longer, Mackenzie buried her face in his neck and let the emotion spill free.
The frustration, the longing, the anger, and the grief. Lots of grief. So devastatingly raw it ached to breathe.
If she thought she’d experienced pain all those years ago, it was nothing compared to the deep emptiness filling her chest now, the cold so severe her body was on the brink of shattering with each second that passed.
Mackenzie had survived her share of loss, had learned how to embrace it. She even knew how to put the pieces back together. This time, though, she was afraid she’d never find all the pieces to make herself whole again.
