“I could help you.” I surprise myself by saying.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why help me? At the start of this week, you could barely stand to look at me. Now you want to help me what? Start a business?”
“We agreed to try to be friends. Isn’t this the exact kind of thing friends do?”
“I appreciate the offer and the suggestion, but I’m not even sure that’s something I want to do.”
“Well, at least think about it. And if it’s something you decide you want to try and pursue, you know where to find me.”
“Why are you being so nice to me right now?”
“Maybe because I realized that by punishing you for leaving, I was really only punishing myself.”
“I am sorry, you know.” She pulls in a deep breath. “I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. I’m sorry for not asking you to comewith me. I’m just... sorry. I should have said that to you a long time ago.”
It takes every inch of willpower I have not to take her face in my hands and kiss her. The way she’s looking at me makes it almost impossible not to do just that.
I force myself to stay exactly where I am.
“I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you since you came back. I’m sorry that I let you leave. I’m sorry that I didn’t fight for you.”
“I really made quite a mess of things.” Unshed tears fill her eyes, but she’s quick to blink them away.
“We both did.” I reach for her hand, honestly a little surprised when she lets me take it. Wrapping my fingers around hers, I give them a gentle squeeze.
“I just need you to know that if I could go back and do things differently, I would.” She gives me a sad smile, pulling her hand out of mine. “Thanks for the ride, Penn.” She turns, pushing open the door.
“London,” I call after her as she slides out of the truck.
“Yeah?” She turns, eyes bright, dark hair hanging over her shoulder. My God, if she isn’t the definition of perfection.
I want to tell her that I still love her.
That these past seven years without her have been torture.
That everything I’ve done to hurt her is proof that I’m not over her. The way I’ve treated her. Sleeping with Cat because I knew it would hurt her. All of it, it’s because I’m still so in love with her that sometimes when I look at her, I find it hard to breathe.
“Thanks for tonight,” I say instead of saying any of those things.
“Of course.” She smiles, but the action doesn’t reach her eyes. “Good night, Penn.”
“Good night.”
I don’t drive away until she disappears inside and even then, the last thing I want to do is leave.
I’ve spent so much time trying to convince myself that I don’t still love London that I almost made myself believe it. But that lie came crashing down around me the moment I saw her sitting outside of the office that first day.
Even then, I wouldn’t let myself admit it. I still don’t want to. I don’t want to love her. To need her. To crave her the way my lungs crave air when I’ve been underwater for too long. Like if I don’t have her right this second, I might actually die.
I don’t want any of those things, and yet it doesn’t change the fact that I still do.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
London
