Page 80 of Waiting for You

She finally pulled back.

"I need to say something," she breathed against my lips, "and I have to get it out before I lose my nerve."

"Let me go first. Please."

She stepped back just far enough to meet my gaze. Her shoulders relaxed, and she gave a small nod.

I cleared my throat.

"I'm sorry. When you told me your father swore to burn my whole life down, I didn't want to believe it. I'd spent eight years trying to get over you. Trying to forgive you. Trying to hate you, because anger was easier than the alternative. And I'd finally made progress. The hate faded first. Finding out it wasn't your fault meant tearing open a wound I'd just finished stitching closed, and I panicked." My eyes burned, and I blinked hard against it. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

Her eyes glassed over.

"I should have fought for you," she whispered, tears spilling over her lashes. "I broke away from him after graduation, but I should've done it the second he gave me that ultimatum. I should have chosen you, and I chose wrong. I'm so sorry."

"That's on me too. I never should have accepted that breakup. I got a package and a note, and I walked away without a single question. I should have demanded answers. I didn't." I shook my head. "I own that."

She reached up and pressed her palm flat against my chest.

"We don't have to live in the past anymore." She held my gaze. "I will never choose anything over you again. I spent years trying to smother how I felt, and it never worked. Eventually you just have to accept the evidence."

A rough laugh escaped me.

I'd spent years treating my inability to get over her as a cage I needed to escape. Only now did I see it wasn't a trap at all.

It was love.

The only thing in my life that had ever felt like freedom, and I'd been serving it like a prison sentence.

I could hold her now without guilt. I could want her without apology. The lost years burned off and left only us.

"What?" she asked, catching my expression.

"Just looking at the rest of my life."

She smacked my arm. "You are so cheesy."

"You hate it?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth as she gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I tolerate it. Sometimes it's annoying."

"Liar."

"How can you tell?"

I dipped my head for a quick kiss. "Your lips taste like lies."

She wrinkled her nose. "Why are you being so cringey?"

"It's been a long time. I've been bottling this up for eight years, so let me have my moment."

She shot me a deadpan look. "I'm only permitting this today. Tomorrow, I pack my bags."

I arched an eyebrow. "I dare you."

She spun on her heel and took a step toward the hallway.

I caught her waist and hauled her backward, kicking the door shut. She let out a bright laugh as I scooped her up, carried her into the kitchen, and set her on the granite counter. I slid my hand down to rest on her thigh and stepped between her knees.