Page 64 of Wait for Him

"I don't feel sorry for you."

"Bullshit."

I got to my feet and caught her wrist when she nearly tripped over herself trying to step into her pants, only meaning to steady her, but she wrenched free so hard I let go immediately.

"God, you've ruined it now." Her voice cracked. "Fuck."

Then her hands came up over her face and she folded in on herself, sobbing so hard the sound went straight through me.

For one second I stood there like an idiot, because I'd never seen Stacy cry. I'd barely seen her look sad. We'd spent a year being exactly what the other person needed by carefully never asking what was underneath any of it, and now one stupid question had ripped the whole thing open.

I crossed the room and pulled her into me.

This time she didn't fight.

She grabbed the back of my shirt with both hands and cried into my chest while I wrapped my arms around her and held on. I could feel how hard she was shaking, feel every breath break against me, and somewhere in the middle of it I knew this was the end of whatever we'd been.

Not because either of us had done something wrong.

We just knew too much now.

The arrangement worked because we could meet in the middle, take what we needed and leave without asking where the need came from. I'd finally asked, and she'd answered, and there was no putting that back where it had been.

"I'm sorry," she kept saying against my shirt.

"Stop apologizing."

"I didn't mean to make this into—"

"Stacy."

She went quiet except for the crying.

I rested my cheek against the top of her head and let her breathe for a while before I asked, "What would you want him to say?"

Her fingers tightened in my shirt.

"Don't."

"You don't have to."

She shook her head, and I thought that was the end of it. Then, after a long silence, she whispered, "That he didn't leave me."

Fuck.

I closed my eyes.

Suddenly I understood the part of this I'd been missing. Stacy hadn't been trying to pretend I was Elijah any more than I'd been pretending she was Rose. She'd just found something familiar enough to take the edge off missing him for a little while.

I knew exactly how that worked.

So I gave her the one thing I could.

"I'm sorry I left you."

Her whole body went still against mine. I felt the exact moment she understood what I was doing, that the voice was mine but the words weren't meant to be.

"I'll never stop loving you," I said quietly. "None of this was me choosing to leave you. You were loved when I was there, and you're loved now. That didn't stop because I did."