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Shit. Don't go there.
I clench my eyes shut and tip my head down. As odd as it sounds, I love that he's a silver fox. He rocks that look.
"Is this what you want? Tell me. Do you want this?"
I meet his stare. No, it's not what I want. I feel like I'm dying a little inside knowing I won’t ever see him again.
"It doesn't matter what I want." My voice breaks. "It's what it is. Let it go."
His eyes flare. James slams his glass to the table and I jump. "Yes, it does. It matters."
Shaking my head, I push my chair back and stand. Jaw trembling, I don't know how I'm going to walk out of here.
"I've said all I needed to say." I reach for my purse.
James finishes his cognac and stands. Taking his tumbler, he rears back and whips it across the room, shattering it against a wall. My heart stops. Something inside me cracks as the crystal pieces fall to the floor. I break down crying. James rushes to me and I can't help my arms going around his neck. He scoops me up and hugs me tight. I haven't been held since my life turned into the shitstorm that it is, and it feels good, so fucking good, especially coming from James. I cry in his arms, hating that this is goodbye, because it is. It's goodbye, whether we want it or not.
"Sweetheart, don't do this." His voice breaks me inside. He doesn't want it to end either and it hurts so fucking much. "Don't do this. Things are different now. So different. It can work. We can work. We'll figure it out. I'm begging you not to do this."
My chest is on fire with emotion, with longing, with wishing things could be different. Maybe in another lifetime it would be, but not ours. We just found each other at the wrong time.
Sniffling, I pull back to tell him I have to go, but he surprises me by pressing his lips to mine.
"Please, let me kiss you," he begs, like he needs me so bad.
I shake my head.
"Open your mouth."
I shake my head again as more tears fall. I'm afraid to kiss him. Afraid of what it could lead to. Afraid of what it would make me feel that I can't have. I want James Riviera, but I can't have him.
"Aubrey, please…"
He's breaking just as much as I am. I don't know how I'll recover from this, because this goodbye is so very unwanted. Our story isn't done, but the book is being forced closed.
"James," I breathe out. "I have to go. Let me go. Don't make this harder than it already is."
Finally, he releases me, but he doesn't release the hold on my heart. I'm crumbling inside, my chest shattering into a million pieces and I don't know how I'm going to deal with it. How I'll live without ever seeing him again. I know what heartbreak feels like since Grammy passed away, but this is a different kind of heartbreak that I've never experienced. My chest rises and falls fast. James cups my face. Using the pads of his thumbs, he wipes away my tears and ultimately nods.
I make my way to his front door. My breathing deepens with each step I take. I place my hand on the knob and pause, knowing that when I walk out I'll never see him again.
I look over my shoulder but he's already walking toward me. Holding my breath, I look up. Our eyes meet and I see the same look in his eyes that I feel in my heart. James places a small kiss to my forehead, then opens the door for me.
I take a step and hesitate.
"If you don't leave now, I'm going to make you mine forever. It's what you want. It's what I fuckin' want, and we both know it. Last chance, sweetheart."
Tears well in my eyes as chills trail down my arms. I want him to yank me inside and make me his, but he's giving me the choice, and I have to make the right decision this time, even if it rips me apart.
Silently saying goodbye to the one thing my heart truly wants, I nod and step outside, then hurry down the stairs to the street. I look back over my shoulder one last time, but James is already slamming the door shut.
And just like that, we're strangers again.
I take my time walking to the train station, allowing my eyes to freshen up and the tears to dry. I'm going to see Natalie at our apartment that I still haven't cleaned out. I don't want her to see me like this. That would allow her to ask questions, and while I didn't do anything wrong this time, I still don't want to give her a reason to think I did.
As I'm walking up the familiar steps, I take out my compact mirror to check how I look. I quickly apply some powder to hide the redness then stuff it away. I stand at our door and take a deep breath before knocking three times. I technically still live here, but I don’t want to walk in either.
She opens immediately, and I hold my breath when I see her. Tears blur my vision. It feels like all I’ve done is cry lately, and now isn't any different. Something flashes in her eyes and I almost regret coming over until she opens her mouth.
