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“I want to so fucking badly.”
A tear catches on her lashes. “But you can’t.” It’s not a question.
I answer anyway. “I’m not sure what that feels like.”
She nods, accepting my explanation.
Deeming it inadequate.
A tear rolls down her cheek. Catches on my thumb.
She blinks and her lashes are curtained with them.
I wrap my arms around her. Pull her closer. Breathe in every ounce of her.
That coconut shampoo.
And something distinctly Leighton.
She sinks into my touch.
She cries onto my suit jacket.
Waves crash onto the beach. Moonlight bounces off the ocean. Stars shine against the dark sky.
“I know I said I’d be patient. But I can’t.” Her voice is a whisper. A promise. A plea. “I’m sorry, Ryan. But I can’t do this anymore.”
“Leigh…”
“I want to be okay with it. Really, I do. But I’m not.”
She leans down and presses her lips to mine. It’s a long, slow kiss. It’s everything she has.
It’s everything I have.
But it isn’t enough.
Chapter 43
Leighton
The pineapple print bedspread mocks me. You’re in paradise and you’re crying? Are you ever going to be happy? Is anything ever going to be enough for you?
Try putting down the vodka for once.
Or womaning the fuck up.
It’s been two weeks. So what if he’s confused. Give the guy a little time.
Stop putting your intimacy issues on him.
You knew he was fucked-up when this started. Now you’re leaving him for it? That’s entrapment, honey.
Did you ask him to open his heart just to tear it from his chest?
Did you offer yours just to take it away?
You call that love?
