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Chapter Thirty-Two
Nate
Vivian is twisting her fingers. I can tell this is hard for her. Regret washes over her face with every breath she takes. I’ve now accepted she’s here for closure. There’s one last thing she needs to say to me. I won’t make this harder for her. I don’t want to hurt her any more than she’s been hurting herself.
I never planned on falling in love with her. I planned on having her in my bed. And once she was there, I made damn sure she didn’t have a reason to leave right away. What grew between us was more than great sex. We had a connection. Maybe as kids who grew up surrounded by addicts. Maybe as people who know what it’s like to have a lot and have a little—even if we experienced it in the opposite order.
But our “connection” was one-sided. She wasn’t ready. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life it’s that you can’t make someone ready just because you are. They have their own timeline. I don’t want anyone pressing me to change before I’m ready. Vivian doesn’t want that either.
But damn, she’s going to take a lifetime to recover from.
“When my father was arrested,” she starts, her voice strong and her eyes on her hands, “and then sentenced, I watched my life rip at the seams. I blamed myself for the demise of the company. For the friends and relationships lost. For standing by while he tore down our family’s future brick by brick.” She takes a breath and continues. “Mom died. Walt was using. And then Dad died. By then I was clumsily making my way. I couldn’t trust myself in a high-powered, intense job, and I couldn’t trust myself in a relationship. I knew I’d sacrifice anything to keep Walt and myself afloat, to protect what family I had left.”
I give her a sad smile. I completely understand.
“And then I did.” She makes a cute face and my heart squeezes. “I became what I needed: bulletproof.”
Keep going, beautiful. You’re doing great.
“I came here tonight to be honest with you, Nate.”
Here we go. I swallow thickly, realize I’m parched, and take a swallow of beer. I need something stronger. After this shindig I’m buying a bottle of whiskey. Archer and Benji won’t ask me to explain, but they will help me drink it.
“Love hurts. That’s the speech I gave myself.” Her gaze wanders as she adds thoughtfully, “Is there anything worse than lying to yourself? If you don’t tell yourself the truth, how can you be honest with anyone else?” Her eyes finally meet mine. I suddenly wish I were bulletproof.
“But it’s not love that hurts. It’s losing love that hurts. I know better than anyone, because I lost you.” I’m nodding while she talks, hoping to get through this as swiftly and painlessly as possible. So I can buy my whiskey and drown my misery. So caught up in what I thought she was going to say, I have to stop nodding and rewind that last bit.
“What was that?” The room has grown louder as guests have come in. Maybe I misheard her.
“I love you,” she says. “And I lost you because I was too stupid to tell you how I felt. To risk not being bulletproof. To risk letting you love me.” She smiles, but it has a sad quality. “I love you, Nate.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “You do?”
“I do.” She cups my face with both hands. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance. I know you deserve better than what I can offer. You deserve someone whole, not in pieces. You deserve—”
I press my index finger over her lips and shake my head. “You, Vivian Vandemark, don’t get to decide what I deserve and don’t deserve.”
Her smile appears from behind my finger. She tugs my hand away.
“I love you, Nate Owen. I love you and I’m so, so sorry I pushed you away. I didn’t know what I had—what I deserved. It was you. All along.”
Her voice fades into a whisper and her eyes mist over. I’m in shock, and might be having a very vivid dream. Maybe I’m still in Benji’s guest bedroom asleep and hungover. But in case I’m not, I should clear something up.
“I have been so heartsick over you I couldn’t breathe. I wanted you and I had no idea what to do to win you back. I was too damn afraid of scaring you off again.”
“You didn’t scare me. I scared myself.” Her hands slide down to my neck and come to rest on my chest. I missed her touch. “I can’t say for sure this is the last time I’ll screw up, but I can promise I’ll never stop loving you. I thought I was protecting my heart. That backfired terribly.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I grip her waist, ignoring the din of the background voices and music. “I think you’re doing fine.”
I bend and capture her mouth with mine, my eyes slipping closed as I drink her in. Her warm vanilla scent wraps around me as she clings to my neck. She’s all I’ve wanted—all I’ve needed—for several days, weeks, hell, a lifetime. I’m vaguely aware of background commentary coming from Benji. Someone claps and others join in. Walt yells, “Finally!”
When I open my eyes, there’s only Vivian. The cute freckles decorating her nose. Her silken dark hair brushing my arms. Her slim waist trapped between my palms. I itch for more of her. I want to tear off her dress and be skin to skin with her—as close as humanly possible. Me inside her. Us becoming one. It’s been too long.
“Does this mean you forgive me?” she asks, and what kills me is that she sounds sincere.
I sweep her hair aside and cradle her jaw. “I love you too much to let a little thing like you leaving me stand in our way.”
She laughs.
