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CHAPTER31
Monique
I put on a brave face for Diego but inside I’m a trembling mess. I hate hospitals. I know they’re supposed to be a place of healing. Where sick people come to get better.
That’s what my mom would tell me when I was a kid. However, I’m old enough now to know that there are quite a few people who enter those doors and don’t make it out alive.
“Stop thinking like that.” Diego’s stern voice pulls me out of those dark thoughts.
I stare at him. “You’re not a mind reader. You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
He gives me a smirk. One that sends butterflies in my belly fluttering. “This little crease in your forehead …” he says at the same time his thumb lightly traces the very crease he’s talking about.
I smile from his soft touch as I turn my head his way.
“Says it all,” he finishes. “You get it whenever you’re concentrating on a difficult problem. Or when you have bad news and you’re trying to figure out how to say it.”
“When have I ever given you bad news?” The question spills out of me without thinking.
“The day you told me you were moving to New York. At our spot.” His voice is low, but I hear him loud and clear. He moves his hand to my hair, stroking the top of my head in a way that lulls the fear raging inside of me.
“We were standing in my favorite place in the world, and all I could think about was how my life was turning upside down,” he confesses.
A lump in my throat forms. It’s painful to look him in the eye. It’s as if he’s reliving that moment all over again.
“I planned to tell you how much I loved you that day.”
At that, I sit up, but he presses a hand against my shoulder, pushing me back against the bed.
“You what?” I ask.
He nods slowly. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. For years, I thought it was only the type of love a friend feels for his best friend. Even when my family and almost everyone around us were trying to tell us it was more than friendship, I ignored them.”
He takes my hand in his. “It wasn’t until after that situation in college with your ex that I realized the truth. What I feel for you is much deeper than friendship. I was going to tell you then. But …”
But I told him I wasn’t coming back to Williamsport. He doesn’t need to finish his sentence.
“I knew it was my fault.”
That’s the comment that makes me stop in my tracks. “What?”
His gaze meets mine. “I was the reason you weren’t coming back. I made everything worse for you when I attacked that fucker.” He shakes his head, dropping his eyes to the bed. “My rage, I couldn’t control it. Not after seeing those bruises he left on you. My temper put you in a terrible position.”
“No,” I say, adamantly.
When his eyes balloon, I realize my tone must’ve been sharper than I intended. But I don’t care. I can’t let him continue to believe that lie.
“Is that what you think? That it was your fault why I chose to not move back home after college?”
He tucks his lower lip in between his teeth, his jaw going rigid. “Not what I believe. It’s what I know for certain.”
“You’re wrong.” I push his hand away when he tries to stop me from sitting up. “Listen to me right now,” I say with urgency. “You were never responsible for my decision to stay away.” I swallow the emotion welling up in my throat. “I told you the reason I decided to move away.”
“But—”
“But nothing.” I cup his beautiful face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. “Listen to me. If anything, you were the main reason making the decision to move to New York broke my heart into a million pieces.”
I’ve never confessed to anyone what I’m about to say, but it feels right to say all of this to him. The main person who matters the most in all of this.
