“It’s not your fault. He’s my brother’s best friend. I’m going to have to face him at some point.”
Although I was really, really hoping that point didn’t have to be today.
I hear the door open, and there’s no time to formulate any sort of game plan before the man who ripped my heart into a million tiny, painful pieces is standing in front of me. For a split second, his face registers shock and something that looks like remorse. But it’s gone as quickly as it appears, replaced by a blank stoicism.
“Hey,” I croak, my eyes drinking him in even as my head is telling me to proceed with caution. Is it my imagination—or maybe wishful thinking—or are those dark circles under his eyes? And his skin is pale and drawn, like he’s been getting as little sleep as I have.
“Hey,” he echoes, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.
“I used my key to get the rest of my stuff.” I jerk my head at the box in my hands. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course.”
There’s a beat of awkward silence, then Ainsley pipes up. “I’ll bring this down to the lobby and call an Uber.”
She lowers her voice to a loud whisper and not-so-subtly elbows me in the ribs. “Tell him how you feel. You’ll regret it if you don’t. Trust me.”
“Traitor,” I mutter as she brushes past me.
“Bye, Connor.” She stops to kiss his cheek. He may have broken my heart, but he’s still practically family. I don’t expect her or Jake to cut them out of their lives on my behalf. Which makes this all that much harder. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t,” he mumbles, shuffling his feet. It’s obvious he’s as uncomfortable with this situation as I am.
Ainsley turns back to me with a look in her eyes that makes my stomach sink. I know that look. It usually means she’s got something up her sleeve. An I’m-not-going-to-like-it kind of something.
“I’ll see you downstairs,” she says. “But don’t rush on my account. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about.”
She takes off down the hall, leaving me and Connor staring after her. A few seconds later, I hear the door to the loft swing open and click shut.
“So.” The box is getting heavy. I shift it in my arms. “This is awkward.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” He takes the box from me, ever the gentleman, even in less than ideal circumstances. “Jake told me you booked an independent film in Toronto. Congratulations. When do you leave?”
“Next week. As soon as shooting wraps on the Mortal Misfits.”
I can’t believe we’re having this conversation in the hallway. Or that I’m seriously considering taking Ainsley’s advice and spilling my guts to Connor. But she has a point. It’s been a month, and my feelings for him haven’t waned. I’ll always wonder what could have been if I had been brave enough to open my mouth. And my heart.
I take a deep breath, swallow hard, and charge ahead. When the words come out, they come fast and furious, like a dam inside me has broken, releasing a floodgate of emotions. “Connor, I know you don’t think we can be together. And I’m not trying to change your mind. But there’s something I never told you, and this might be my last chance. I lo—”
“Don’t,” he says, low and pleading, cutting me off. His jaw is tight, his face hard. “Please.”
An ache builds and takes root deep in my soul. “Why?”
“It doesn’t change anything.” Each syllable he utters is a fresh blow to my already splintered heart. “I still can’t be the man you need.”
What little hope I’d been clinging to seeps out of me, leaving me feeling like a deflated balloon. That’s it then. He knows how I feel, and it doesn’t matter.
I snatch the box out of his hands and push my way past him to the door, determined not to let him see me cry this time.
“Is there anything else that needs to go downstairs?” he asks almost apologetically.
“No, this is the last of it.” Thank God. I don’t think I could survive another encounter with him today.
He goes to open the door for me, but my icy glare stops him short. I shift the box to my hip and use my free hand to dig into my pocket.
“Here.” I pull out the key to his apartment, the one he gave me when I first moved in what seems like an eternity ago. “I won’t be needing this anymore.”
I press the key into his palm, relishing one final brush of his skin against mine, and walk out the door for the last time, leaving my heart behind with him.
