Page 280 of Rush

“I agreed to this…arrangement…because I hoped, eventually, you’d grow to love me,” he says, his voice quieter now. “Because I thought if you gave me a chance, I could prove myself to you. If I gave you what you needed, you’d see that we’re already there. But it’s been months, Elena. We keep toeing this line, and I’m the one bleeding from it.”

His jaw tightens. “I want to sit beside you, not sneak away like some dirty little secret. I want to hold your hand in front of our friends. I want to introduce you to my ma asmy girl.”

I look away—hating myself for what I’ve done, because he deserves all of those things. But I still feel pulled, tethered to Alex, even as Broderick holds on to me.

“I’m thirty-three,” he says. “And I want a life. I want a real relationship. Something that doesn’t live in limbo. Something that doesn’t have to be held back or hidden or untangled every time we get too close.” His voice breaks just slightly. “I wantyouto be the one I come home to.”

He takes a breath like it hurts.

“If this isn’t going anywhere…if I’m just a chapter between you and whoever comes next, I need you to say it.”

I feel sick, his words stripping me down to the ugliest truth:I want him—But I’m not sure I can give him what he deserves.

“Broderick, please. You’re one of my best friends,” I say quietly. “I don’t want to lose you. Please…please don’t complicate this. I need you.”

“You need me, but you don’t love me—is that it?”

I flinch, because I do love him. But how can I give him my whole heart when part of it still belongs to someone else. It wouldn’t be fair.

“You deserve someone who can give you everything.”

“What does that even mean?” he asks, pained, running his hands through his hair.

“You’re too good,” I whisper.

“But not good enough?”

It’s me who isn’t good enough.

“No—you’re perfect, you’re?—”

“And if I were to date someone else?”

He stares at me like I’m a stranger—and maybe I am.

My throat closes. I hesitate. Everything inside me screamsno.But I force myself to nod.

“If it made you happy, then I wouldn’t stand in your way.”

The pain in his face doesn’t explode. It sinks. Like I’ve cut out something alive inside him and handed it back.

I want to take it back. I want to scream.

What I want to say is: I’d lose my fucking mind. I’d lose myself. I’d want to claw her out of your life—your bed, your skin—because it should be me.

But I don’t say it. I can’t be selfish.

Not with him.

Because he deserves someone who is sure about what she wants. Someone who isn’t damaged or ruined or unwanted. Someone who wants marriage and kids—everything that he wants and deserves. I can’t give him that guarantee.

I watch him take another small step away from me.

And this time, I know?—

I might’ve pushed him too far to come back.

Chapter 32