AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shrug. “He took a bullet for me.”
Tristan parts his lips, probably to argue he’d do the same, but I hold up my hand, cutting him off.
“It was more than just that. He understood what I was going through. He was the only person who really did. The only person who never told me to get over it. The only person who didn’t make light of it because I wasn’t harmed, so what if some guy pointed a gun at me.”
“Like I did,” he says dejectedly.
I remain silent, not agreeing with him.
But not disagreeing, either.
As wonderful as Tristan is, hediddownplay things. Made comments that had me questioning my sanity. Made me think I should be able to forget some guy was less than a second away from killing me.
“Do you still love him?” Tristan asks after a beat, his eyes like bottomless pits of sorrow.
“I don’t want to,” I confess, throat aching.
“But you do.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, hating to hurt Tristan like this, but he deserves the truth.
“I do.”
He pushes out a long sigh as my confession seems to echo in the quiet of the morning.
“Answer me this. If there was nothing preventing you from being together, who would you choose?”
“Tristan…” His name is like a plea on my lips as I beg him not to ask this of me.
“Tell me, Esme. I need to know where I stand. Will I always come in second place in your heart?”
I want to tell him he won’t. That I love him. That I’m happy with him.
But he deserves better than this.
He deserves someone who will love him without restraint. Who lights up the instant he walks into the room. Who can’t imagine a future without him. Who will fight for him. Who willburnfor him.
That’s not me.
It never was.
“I’m sorry,” is all the response I can give him.
My words are like a punch to the gut, all the strength disappearing from his body as he deflates in front of me.
I hadn’t expected this morning to take such a drastic turn. But as much as I hate hurting Tristan, this needed to happen. I need to stop pretending.
“Okay then.” He pushes himself to his feet, his defined muscles tensing and stretching with the motion. “I’m going to hit the gym. Try to…process this.”
I stand, awkwardly pulling my t-shirt to cover my bare legs. “I’ll pack up my things and be out of here by the time you get back.”
My eyes trace over his frame as I take in every detail about him. From the light dusting of stubble along his jawline, to his disheveled hair, to his plaid pajama bottoms that fall so perfectly from his hips.
“I really am sorry,” I say for what feels like the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. Thought I could leave the past in the past.”
“Even if you could, I’m not interested in being anyone’s consolation prize.”
“I’m sorry I made you waste all these years waiting for me.”
