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He holds his hands up, pointing to me. “I want you. The accolades, the touring, all those fucking nominations and awards I thought I wanted? I didn’t.” He sighs. “I thought I needed to be a rock star, but honey, I needed your love. To wake up next to you, to come home after weeks on the road and see your face.”
“You came back to tell me that? Well, you can save it,” I snap.
His voice is deep when he says, “You are my home. You saw me; you still see me. When our eyes met, I no longer felt invisible. I didn’t have to pretend with you. You know my pain, my fears, and you never look away.”
“I never lied to you. But you lied to me.”
“When did I lie, huh? I always told you the truth.”
“A part of you did—”
He grunts, locking eyes with me.
“You lied when you told me that what we had would last forever. It didn’t.”
“It’s still here. What we had is still here. My love for you never went away. And I am sorry, fucking sorry, for not giving you everything you needed. But what about what I needed?” His hand is on his heart.
“What do you mean?” I ask, taking a step back.
“Fuck, Alice. You weren’t the only one who lost the baby. Why did you push me away? Why didn’t you let me in? I would have helped you. I would have been there. I should have been there all the way.”
“I spend all this time being angry,” I whisper. “I don’t know how to let go because once I do, I have to acknowledge that the baby is—”
“Gone. I know, darling.” Those dark eyes find mine when he takes a step toward me.
“Stop saying ‘I know.’ You know nothing. Not about the nights, no, the months I cried myself to sleep thinking you were glad we were over. Because you never came back,” I sob.
“What? Why would you think that?” His voice is soft.
“I heard you tell Sterling you didn’t want to be a father. I should have made sure. I should have gone to a doctor. Those months on tour I was sick. Not sleeping, not eating right. I could have prevented it. I might have saved us.” The tears spill over and my body starts to tremble.
He reaches out, and I lean into his touch.
“There was no way. It wasn’t meant to be.”
“Do not talk to me about being meant to be. You left. The guys stayed with me. Evan was somewhere in the world doing black ops and he still called me. Gunner, who was in freaking prison, comforted me with his letters. And you were not there, you never were.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I need to say it, but I will say it because I mean every word. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, pushing him away.
“Allie.” The way he says my name has my body breaking out in goose bumps.
He is still one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen in my life. Working with him these last few weeks has opened my eyes to the man he has become.
His gaze wanders over me. One eyebrow raises, taunting me. Daring me to make the first move.
“Can’t we go on like this?” I ask, my voice small. When the words leave my mouth, I don’t know what I want. “To say I’m scared is the understatement of the century. How long will it last before you pick up a bottle again? One year, two years, ten years? I hated that part of you, and loved it at the same time. Because it was you. I don’t know the man standing in front of me. It’s been ages, and that’s what scares me.”
“Good, then at least you’re feeling something.”
We keep staring at each other. And there it is again: a burning sensation. I’m weak in the knees. I can’t breathe. I need him, need to touch him, craving the pull of his lips against mine.
“Why are you back if you know you’re getting all this?” Breaking the spell, I motion to the mess that is me.
“You know why I am here.” He takes a step closer.
I shake my head. “Four years too late, Navarone.”
