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Veiny, turquoise eyes flit up and pin me in place. I love and hate the hope I see in them.
“But I’m not the same little girl anymore.”
Calloused fingers slowly stroke my fingers, my palm, my wrist. “I know.”
“What happened to my father”—the backs of my eyes sting as my chin trembles—“it changed me.”
He lifts his free hand and cups my cheek. Brushes his thumb over the apple of my cheek with such tenderness. “How could it not?”
I close my eyes and let my mind drift momentarily. Give him my weight and sigh. Relish the feel of his rough fingers on my soft skin. Bask in his warmth, his affection. Let it flow through me and give me strength.
With Ben, life could be so simple and perfect. Uncomplicated. Lazy weekends reading books or exploring forests or mountains. Breakfasts and dinners across from each other as we talk about our day. Summers spent splashing each other in the creek or bay. Endless laughter and smiles and joy.
But love… the love I have to offer seems inadequate or unbalanced when compared to what Ben has to give. I love him, but not the way he believes he loves me. Letting him think otherwise makes me a horrible person. Giving him a false sense of hope is wrong, a setup for failure.
My eyes open and meet his patient gaze. “Ben, when I told you weeks ago I’d never been in a relationship, I wasn’t kidding.” My truth barely audible as it leaves my lips.
He subtly shakes his head. “Still blows my mind.” His thumb brushes my cheek with lazy strokes. “How has someone as beautiful and incredible as you never been in a relationship?”
Unable to fight it, I lean more into his touch. Bask in the warmth and comfort only Ben delivers. “Noromanticrelationships.” My brows scrunch together. “I’ve been with people.” I drop my gaze to our joined hands. “But I don’t make a habit of hooking up with a person more than once.” Gnarly energy swirls in my belly and I take a deep breath. “Things with Travis…”
His hand in mine locks, his body going rigid. “Things with Travis, what?” A growl highlights his words.
God, why is this so fucking hard? Why does this hurt so damn much? Each piece of truth is a jagged blade being slowly pushed into my heart.
I lift my gaze and search the depths of his for a hint of understanding. “It’s different with him.”
His head jerks back as if I slapped him. “What does that even mean?”
Fire sparks beneath my skin as my heart bangs, bangs, bangs against my rib cage. Irritation crackles in the air and I grind my molars. I release his hand and move out of his reach. “In our own way, we’re both messed up.” I shrug.
“Unbelievable,” he mutters.
“What?”
He laughs without humor, faces forward, and reaches for the door handle. “So because I don’t have some fucked-up past, I’m not worthy.” He shakes his head, then slaps me with the iciest glare. “But hey, at least I’ll have more baggage for the next person.”
Ben yanks on the handle, exits the car, and slams the door hard enough to rattle the window. My heart splinters, a shiver rolling up my spine that has nothing to do with the December temperature, as he storms to the entrance and disappears inside.
It is the right thing to do. It will never work with Ben.
Regardless of how many times I repeat the words, the spasm in my chest doesn’t let up. Regardless of how much I try to convince myself this is for the best, the knife in my chest only goes deeper.
What have I done?
We need to talk
My phone buzzes a second after the message flips from delivered to read. Travis’s name flashes on the screen, and I picture him pacing the room, frantic.
In the history of conversations, no great ones began with We need to talk.
I tap accept and bring the phone to my ear. “Hey.”
“What’s wrong? Did he do something?” I all but hear his teeth crack through the phone.
A sigh leaves my lips. “Travis, I don’t want to talk about this over the phone.”
An engine roars to life on the other end. “Headed over now.”
