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She must agree she'll be happier with someone else.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Alyssa
Luke offers me the rest of the vacation. Like spending the next four days in Hawaii by myself is some kind of consolation prize. Sorry, I'm dumping you. Here's some time in paradise to really let that sink in.
Fucking wonderful.
He retreats to the living room of the suite, leaving the bedroom to me. He calls someone, making some kind of arrangements. Probably some woman who actually talks to him.
I pull my knees into my chest and bury myself under the covers. It's dimmer, darker, quieter. It's warm, too warm, but the suffocating feeling is comforting somehow. Something is wrapped around me. It's not Luke's arms. It's not his undying devotion or even his damn patience.
A sob breaks into a whimper. I can't cry too loudly. I can't do anything that will tempt him to console me. A hug from him, the sweet smell of his body, the taste of his lips...
It would be too much. I'd fall apart.
I hug my knees tighter. I may as well fall apart. Better than trying to convince myself I can live without him.
He's tired of fighting me.
I squeeze my eyes closed, willing the darkness into my brain. I need black. I need nothing. I need to be empty again, to be filled with anything except this.
This is it. The end. He's done enough, been patient enough, been sweet enough. Hell, he's been much more than I deserve.
I can't blame him. I'm tired of fighting me too. If I had the choice, I'd walk away.
Tears sting my eyes. Okay. Fine. This is one thing I can't fight.
A sob wells in my throat. I clutch the blanket around me. Here, alone, in this dark room, I can really fall apart.
***
"Alyssa."
Luke's voice is so gentle and sweet. For a moment, I'm convinced this was all a nightmare. Another premonition of the awful I might face.
I open my eyes, and the world is spinning around me. That's Luke, sitting on the bed with that look on his face that says I'm sorry, I'm getting out of here. And this is our room, the room where we were supposed to fix everything, where we were supposed to erase how much the last six months hurt.
I feel his hands on my hair. I close my eyes, fighting another round of stupid tears. There's an emptiness inside of me, starting at my throat and going all the way into my gut.
He strokes my hair gently. He should stop. He shouldn't do this. It hurts too much. It's too awful. But I need the comfort too much. I need him around too much.
"I talked to Laurie. She's taking a red-eye. She'll be here in the morning."
And now he's calling my friends to console me. Doesn't he realize being sweet and considerate only makes this worse?
There's mostly concern in his eyes. Even when he's desperate to get the hell out of Dodge, he's still concerned for me.
"Okay," I say. It's a tiny whisper. The only thing I can manage.
"I'm leaving in a few minutes."
I swallow hard, will
ing my eyes to stay dry. "Do you have to?"
He strokes my hair one last time. Looks into my eyes one last time. He leans towards me, and presses his lips against mine. It's the softest, lightest kiss. It's barely anything.
