Page 288 of Power Play

“Yeah.” Ryan’s laugh held no humor. “Lance knew exactly what he was doing.”

“He wanted to separate us.”

“And you helped him.”

The words cut cleanly through mine.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s supposed to matter?”

“No, but—”

“Intent doesn’t mean shit when the result is the same.”

He turned toward the couch and jerked the zipper closed on his duffel. The sound tore through the apartment, final and violent.

When he lifted the bag, I saw the books stacked on the coffee table beneath it. Poetry collections. The Brontë novel I had teased him about replacing because his copy was falling apart.

He had packed them for the cabin.

For me.

The realization crushed the air from my lungs. “Ryan, stop.”

He slung the duffel over his shoulder and headed for the door. I stepped into his path.

“Move, Charm.”

“I love you.”

His expression didn’t change.

“I should have said it in there. I should have told my father exactly what you are to me, but I was scared and froze.” Tears blurred the brutal stillness in his face. “I’m here now. I followed you because I’m choosing you.”

“You’re chasing me because I left.”

“No.”

“Yes.” His voice remained quiet, but the destroyed sound beneath it made me ache. “You had the chance to choose me when it cost you something. You didn’t.”

“I made a mistake.”

“You made a choice.”

“My father cornered me.”

“Your father cornered me.” Ryan stepped closer, forcing me to lift my face to keep looking at him. “He looked me dead in the eye and told me I was beneath you while you stood beside him. Don’t come into my apartment and pretend you were the one trapped in that room.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m trying to fix this.”

“You can’t.”

The certainty in his voice terrified me more than his anger could have.