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“That wasn't your fault.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I should've been there for you.”
After a long silence, Audrey whispers, “My parents pushed me to be with Brent.”
I clench my jaw before forcing out, “You did what you felt was right.”
The words taste like ashes.
“I said yes out of duty.” Her voice cracks on the last word.
I reach for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You were in an impossible situation. We both were.”
“I should've stood up to them.” Audrey's voice wavers as she fights back tears.
Seeing her anguish is too much. I gently wipe a stray tear from her cheek. “Hey...it's going to be okay.”
She smiles faintly at my touch. “I don't want to be with someone I don't love. My heart belongs to you. It always has.”
When her eyes meet mine, everything fades away. It’s just Audrey and me and the fragile hope building between us. Something shifts inside—like a key turning a lock.
My heart gives a nervous jolt. I’m finally part of something greater—we have a future together.
“I love you, Auds—always have. Always will.”
“I love you too,” she whispers in return.
A deeply contented sigh rises from my chest. “Thank fuck you feel the same. I can’t live without you any longer.”
“Same. I can’t imagine my life without you in it,” she says, her voice laced with raw emotion.
“I've always wanted you, Audrey. That night we danced in the garden was—”
“I never wanted it to end,” she says softly.
“Me either. If we hadn't been interrupted, I don't think I could've stopped myself.”
She bites her lip. “Stopped yourself from what?”
“From claiming you, making you mine.” I take a measured breath. “Everyone said keeping my distance was best for you. I respected the boundaries, even though it killed me.”
Audrey's brows furrow. “Who said that? Our parents?”
I nod slowly. “I won't get into details, but I thought I was doing the right thing. I was wrong.”
“Is that how you felt all along?”
“Always,” I confess.
“I was afraid you were only teasing. Flirting but nothing more.”
I reflect on the times she sat beside me during family dinners, our thighs touching. “It’s the only way I could interact with you.”
Her eyes glisten with emotion. “I noticed everything. Your attentive touch, the way you’d look at me. I just didn't let myself believe...”
“Offered you drinks, plated your food, or refilled your drink.” My voice trails off, and I shake my head at wasted years.
“I remember,” she says softly.
“And every time it happened, I was warned to back off, so I did. I didn’t overwhelm you with my need for you. Sometimes I can be too much. Too intense.”
