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I don’t believe for a second she’s been anything but faithful to me. Or as faithful as possible in this fucked-up arrangement.
But the fact she wants to walk away now is tearing me up. I thought we still had time. Not much, but it was something. Now she wants to throw it all away just because of some workplace rumors.
“You know you’re the only one,” she mutters, slowly lifting her eyes to mine. “It’s only been you.”
I clasp her hands, grateful when she doesn’t pull away. “Let it still be me. Three weeks. That’s all I’m asking for, Esme. Just three more wonderful, amazing weeks. Please, love.” My voice catches on my words. “Don’t do this.”
Tears dot her lids, her lip quivering. “But I have to, Creed.”
“No, you don’t.” I move my hands to her biceps, holding her in place as I fight the despair consuming me, making me dizzy. “We can still enjoy the time we have left. We’ll find somewhere else to meet.”
“People are already suspicious. All it takes is one moment of carelessness and it will all go up in flames. Everything you’ve worked hard for, all the sacrifices you’ve made for this country, would be for nothing. I just…” She shakes her head. “I can’t have that on my conscience, Creed.”
“I don’t care about that,” I insist, gripping her tighter. “I knew the risks when we started this. I accepted them back then. And I still accept them now.” I frame her face in my hands, not allowing her to escape my next words. “I love you.”
She sucks in a sharp breath, eyes widening. The room goes still as my confession hangs in the air.
“What did you say?”
A small smile curves on my mouth as I erase the distance between us, my lips so close to hers. “I said, I love you, Esme.”
She squeezes her eyes shut, a single tear sliding down her cheek. “No, Creed. You can’t. You—”
“Yes, I can,” I answer calmly, at complete odds with the frustration and devastation covering her expression. “And I do. Trying to will it away won’t stop the way I feel about you.” When she returns her gaze to mine, I repeat, “I love you.”
“But you promised,” she chokes out. “You swore you wouldn’t fall in love with me. You broke that promise, Creed.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Yes, you did. You—”
“I promised I wouldn’t fall in love with you. And I didn’t. Because I was already in love with you, Esme. I have been for a very long time.” I hold her face tighter as my mouth descends toward hers. “And I know you love me.”
“No,” she exhales, but loses her protest when I touch my lips to hers in a ghost of a kiss. She whimpers, but doesn’t retreat, remaining in this place of indecision for several long moments before finally pressing her mouth more firmly against mine.
She can try to deny this electricity, this amazing connection. But I felt it the night we celebrated her birthday. And I’ve felt it every day since then. She loves me. She’s just scared to admit it. Scared of what it could mean for her.
And me.
When I dig my fingers into her hair and deepen the kiss, our tongues sliding against each other, I groan. The sound must snap her out of her trance, because she stiffens, scrambling out of my hold as she wipes her kiss-swollen lips.
“We’re not doing this, Creed.” Struggling to catch her breath, she holds an arm out in front of her in an effort to keep me from coming closer. “Not anymore. We can’t.”
“I understand this is scary for you. It’s scary for me, too. But I’m willing to jump. To take that risk. I know it’s complicated, but we’ll find a way to be together. To make it work. You say you don’t want to do anything that puts my future at risk. But I can’t imagine a future without you. Without loving you.”
“Creed, I—”
“One of my military buddies has been trying to get me to join his private security firm,” I interrupt before she can turn me down. “I can go work for him. We can leave this place. Start over again somewhere else. Just… Don’t push me away because you think you have to. You don’t. We’ll figure it out.”
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, shaking her head. Then she draws in a deep breath, smoothing a hand down her perfectly tailored dress, the picture of poise and sophistication.
And like seconds ago, she transforms back into the old Esme, a puppet once more.
“There’s nothing to figure out. I apologize if any of my behavior this summer gave you the wrong idea. Or if I led you to believe my feelings were anything…more. I’ve grown up accustomed to a certain lifestyle. One you could never give me. We had some fun. But that’s all this was. Meaningless fun. Nothing more.” She holds her head high, refusing to look at me as she moves toward the door.
“Bullshite. This isn’t you talking right now,” I argue, my words laced with desperation. “It’s your fear talking.”
“I’m not afraid,” she throws over her shoulder.
