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“Yes,” I hissed right back, watching her face as she fell apart in my arms. She fought it, thrashing her head back and forth. But I could tell just how hard it hit her when she cried out and strained against me, seeking what she knew I could give her. She took it all, and was left panting and limp when she came back down from her peak. Finally cracking her lashes open, she gazed at me from glassy, dazed eyes.
“You. Are. Mine,” I told her. “I don’t care how many times you break up with me or how many other men you try to take on a date. I don’t care how wrong we are for each other. I don’t care that I’ll never be good enough for you or that we’re risking everything to be together. Your mother would never approve. Whatever. Fuck it all. You are fucking mine. And I’m yours. And we belong together.”
“No,” she whispered.
“Damn it.” Fisting my hand, I pounded the wall next to us. “Yes!”
She jumped, and a tear slid down her cheek. “Noel, stop. Please. Stop. I don’t want this. I don’t want this.”
She wasn’t shoving at my shoulders anymore, but the glazed loss and defeat in her watery eyes undid me.
“Fuck,” I whispered. I stopped pinning her hips to the wall and pressed my forehead to hers.
She unwound her legs from me and touched her toes to the floor before sliding down, probably to escape me. But I went with her, keeping our brows pressed together. Once she was sitting and I was kneeling in front of her, she let out a small sob.
Jesus.
“I’m sorry,” I croaked. “Jesus, God, I’m so sorry. I know I crossed the line. So many lines. I know I went way past guy-fighting-for-his-girl and straight into harassment territory last night when I text bombed you, even though I’m still pissed at you for going anywhere with him. How I responded was uncalled for and just...fucked up. And today in class. Today was even worse. I know that. And then just now...” Cold hard dread settled in me as I realized what I’d actually done just now. “I forced you to—”
I couldn’t even admit it aloud. But oh, God. I was no better than Zach was. The very idea made me sick.
Scared as fuck of what I was capable of, I stumbled away from her. She must’ve sensed how close I was to completely losing my shit, because she looked at me, and even with her lashes clogged with tears that I’d made fall, she still had the compassion to reassure me. “You didn’t force me, Noel. Not at all.”
I still felt like shit, though. So, I bowed my head, trying to combat the nausea. It didn’t help matters when she added, “But I do need you to go.”
I winced. “I am more sorry than you can ever imagine. Aspen...please.”
She didn’t answer.
I wasn’t forgiven.
“Fuck,” I said a little louder this time.
When she sniffed and covered her mouth with her hands, I sat on my haunches to watch teardrop after teardrop stream down her face. I’d hurt her, and I hated that. She had every right to hurt me back, to never forgive me.
Realizing this was it; she wasn’t going to let me in again, I surged to my feet and grabbed my hair with both hands.
Deep in my chest, my soul disintegrated as I heaved in a choked gasp for breath. It might’ve sounded like a goddamn sob, but fuck. Whatever.
She watched me for a second before she hugged her folded legs, squeezed her eyes closed, and dug her face into her knees.
“Aspen.” When another pussy-sounding sob tore from me, I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to push everything back in. But nothing worked. All the pain, and fear, and desperation of losing her spilled out. “I don’t know how to do this,” I confessed, shaking my head back and forth. “I don’t know how to give you up. I love you.”
The features on her face fell. Hugging her ribs, she bowed her head and cried quietly. More lost than I’d ever felt in my life, I approached her slowly and gently set my hand on the top of her hair. When she trembled under the warmth of my palm, I knew there was only one thing left I could do.
I had to let go.
“Okay,” I said, my voice breaking and my chin wobbling. “Okay.” My fingers slid limply from her. My guts twisted as I wondered if that was the last time I’d ever touch her.
I wanted to fall to my knees and keep begging, but I’d already scared her enough. It took everything I had to turn away and walk to the front door.
When I opened it, I paused, giving her one last chance to call me back. When she said nothing, I murmured, “Take care of yourself,” and left.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places.” - Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms
~ASPEN~
