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“I needed to say it,” she said simply, keeping her distance from him. “I needed you to know that I feel like this. And I needed to know …”
Another throb of heavy, aching silence.
“If I feel the same way?” He finished for her after a moment. He turned away from her, his back moving with the force of his ragged breaths. “Are you kidding me? That was never part of our deal.”
“Our deal? I didn’t realise we had one,” she responded softly, her heart barely able to beat for the pain she felt.
“This! This is our deal. Sex. Spending time together. That’s what we are. Love … love isn’t something I’m interested in.”
She winced as though he’d hit her. He couldn’t have been clearer. Her eyes flinched betrayingly to the suitcase beside her and he noted it for the first time.
A muscle flexed in his cheek at the ramifications of this conversation became clear to him. She was leaving. Unless he said that he loved her, which he didn’t, she was going to leave. There was a hollowness in the pit of his stomach that he hadn’t experienced before. The emotional blackmail stung. He had expected more of her, somehow.
“You must have known it was always, always, more than that for me,” she said with only a slight hint of condemnation in her tone. “How could I be here with you and not fall in love? How could we make love and not be in love?”
“People do it all the time. It’s part of being an adult.”
“I’m not talking about people,” she denied, her temper fraying. “I’m talking about us. I’m talking about how I feel when I’m with you. How I know you feel.”
The muscle worked harder. She watched it, fascinated. “I never asked you to love me. I never asked you to do anything but stay with me.”
“But only in your bed,” she surmised, amazed that she was still able to speak so calmly when her insides were completely torn.
“Come on!” He growled, dragging his fingers through that thick, silver hair. “You are being ridiculous. If you love me, then stay. Enjoy what we share.”
“Always knowing you don’t feel that way for me? That you might leave at any point?” She shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“Bullshit. I’m not asking you to indenture yourself to me for life. Just stay while it suits you. While you’re happy.”
She shook her head again, slowly this time, and then took three paces towards him. “I told myself tonight that there was just one thing you could say that would make this feel better.” She dug a hand into her chest. “One thing you could say that would take away this agonizing pain I’ve felt all day.” She reached up and cupped his cheek. “But you don’t love me.” Her eyes pleaded with him. Her lower lip trembled. “Do you?”
His eyes scanned her face, and the hollowness in his chest was a proper ache now. He felt almost as though he’d been knifed in the gut.
“I’ve only known you a month.” It was a stalling tactic and they both knew it.
“Six weeks, actually,” she said with a small smile. It didn’t matter. “And I think I fell in love with you on the first day.”
“Just … stop saying that. I don’t … I don’t … I can’t give you what you need. You know that.”
“I do.” She nodded. It was done. It couldn’t be undone.
“Why?” He was bleak. “Why did you do it? I never wanted you to love me.”
“I know. I didn’t mean to, believe me. I began to see our relationship as incremental. I told myself that if I could just have one more time with you, I’d be happy. Then, that wasn’t enough. It became another day. Another night. Two more days. A week. I have wanted more since I met you, and there is no more for you to give me. You literally have no more. This is it.”
He had never heard himself described with such obvious pity. And it angered him! He didn’t need her pity. He didn’t need anyone’s.
“This is all I want,” he ground out, ignoring the ache inside of him.
Her eyes widened, and he knew that she was fighting her own anger. “You know, I get it. You’re a lone wolf. You like to do your own thing. But sometime, somewhere, somehow, someone has got to matter. Don’t they? Or do you actually believe you can go through life never giving a crap about another person?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
His eyes held hers with the steely determination she’d first noticed in them – the same determination that had made her love him.
“Yes, Seraphina. I believe I can go through my life as I always have done. On my own. People come and go, and none will ever matter to me. Not in the way you want to. If that bothers you, then you’re right to go.”
