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It doesn’t matter if he thinks it’s right. It’s nothisfucking healing; it’s mine.
I love him to death, but right now…
I don’t want to comfort him or reassure him.
I’m exhausted, and I just want to go back to sleep.
Pulling out of his embrace makes me feel so cold. I roll over and pull the blankets up around me, but somehow, I don’t feel any warmer. “I’m tired,” I murmur, burrowing in.
“Do you want me to lie here with you?”
No.
The thought brings tears to my tired eyes. I’m glad he can’t see them, glad he can’t hear them when I say, “No, it’s okay. I just want to go to sleep.”
He doesn’t say a word, but I can feel his helplessness. It kills me. I know Milo isn’t used to feeling that way and he must hate it, I just don’t have the energy to fix it right now.
I hope it doesn’t kill his love for me, but I don’t even know how much he has left. He said he’d love me no matter what, but nobody ever really means that.
I’ll love you until it gets hard, that’s what they mean, and I know this is hard.
It’s hard for me, too, but I don’t have the option of walking away from it.
He does.
He’s a good man, so, sure, he’d feel bad for a while, but it would pass, and then he could move on with his life.
Right now, it doesn’t feel like I ever will. The clouds may break for a little while, but there will always be something just around the corner to sink me back into this pit of loneliness and despair.
I tell myself that maybe he’s right and thiswillpass, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of quicksand beneath my feet. One wrong step and I sink.
I know how much he wants to be there for me, but I feel like I’m walking alone.
I close my eyes, pushing out more tears.
Milo doesn’t know I’m crying, so he rolls over and climbs off the bed.
Don’t go.
But he needs to. He’s just making me feel worse right now, and I need a break.
“I’m just downstairs if you need anything,” he tells me.
I need something, all right. Just nothing he wants to give me.
Chapter twenty-five
Milo
Bacon grease sizzles in the pan as I reach down to turn off the heat. I transfer the cooked meat to the plate lined with paper towels beside the stove and hear the telltale squeak of cross trainers on the kitchen floor behind me.
“Damn, it smells good in here for a Monday morning.”
My gaze flickers to Jonathan as he enters the kitchen in his workout clothes. “I made Jet a sandwich before he left for school. Figured I’d make you one, too. Going for a run?”
He nods, looking at the breakfast sandwich I’m assembling for him. “I was going to, but I can wait. You eating with me?”
I shake my head, laying the hot bacon across the top of the sandwich and closing it. “Kennedy is still asleep, so I’ll wait to eat with her.”
