“Maybe it did start then,” he admitted. “But it only confirmed what I already knew—this has to end.”
“No, it doesn’t. Don’t go, Theo,” I changed tactics, pleading with him. Be gentle. “What we have is good. It’s scary because it’s powerful. And it makes you feel vulnerable. I know it’s hard for you to trust me, Theo. But you have to. I won’t leave you.”
“Don’t say that!” he exploded. “Don’t make promises like that. You won’t be able to keep them.”
“Yes, I will! That’s what it means to love someone this way. You stick around even when it’s difficult. You stay when it would be easier to go. You don’t give up.”
“It’s not enough. Love’s not enough to make someone stay. You think it will be, but it’s not.” His eyes shone, and in them I saw the hurt of a child who felt that he hadn’t been enough.
My heart was breaking. “I’m not her, Theo.”
“I have to go.” He turned for the door and I rushed straight at him, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to meet my eyes.
“Look at me. Look at me and tell me you don’t love me.”
“I can’t,” he said, his voice cracking.
“Tell me!” I cried, wishing I could shake him. “Tell me you don’t love me enough to stay!”
A sound of frustration ripped from his throat and he grabbed my head, crushing his lips to mine. I clung to him desperately, begging him with my lips and tongue and hands not to leave me, relieved when his arms came around me too. He loves me, he loves me, he loves me… I was drunk with it.
Five seconds later, he tore himself from my embrace and stormed out the front door.
I was alone. I was in shock. I was crushed.
But I had my answer.
He might love me…but not enough to stay.
Thirty-Six
Theo
* * *
Goddammit!
I slammed the door to my apartment and threw my keys at the wall, where they left an angry black mark. But it didn’t relieve any tension, so I backhanded a lamp, knocking it off an end table.
“Fuck!” I yelled, breathing hard and heavy.
How had this gone so wrong? What did the universe have against me that my plan to avoid a fight had failed so miserably? I wanted to punch someone, mainly myself. It had been even worse than I’d imagined it—her shock, her anger, her tears, her accusations.
The way her hands trembled as she tore open the envelope—she must have known somehow what it contained. Those hands that had been everywhere on my body and brought me so much pleasure.
The way her voice shook when she asked me why, when she said my name, when she said she wouldn’t leave me. That voice, which had whispered sweet words so many times in the dark, had spoken my name with something near reverence while I moved inside her.
The way her eyes challenged me to say I didn’t love her, dared me to tell her that lie. In them I saw hurt and anger and fear. Those eyes that had looked at me with such devotion and trust only yesterday.
My heart ached. I’d never have any of it again. I’d given it all up when I walked out the door.
The loss of her cut me to the bone, and I dropped my head into my hands. Every heartbeat was a knife to the chest. Every second that ticked by was agony—I lost her, I lost her, I lost her.
No, I hadn’t lost her. I’d left her.
And if I felt this aching for her with every breath for the rest of my life, then maybe I deserved it.
But at least I was safe.
And she was too.
Thirty-Seven
Claire
* * *
After crying my eyes out on my bed for an hour, I texted Jaime and asked if she could come over after work. She immediately called me.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as soon as I picked up. It sounded like she was driving.
“Theo and I broke up.” I didn’t think I had tears left, but my eyes filled again.
She gasped. “What? Why? When?”
“This morning,” I sobbed hoarsely. Was I coming down with something? My chest felt thick with something and I couldn’t breathe right.
“Oh my God. Are you at work?”
“No. I took the day off.” A coughing fit seized me.
“I’m coming over. I’ll be there in ten.”
“OK.” I tossed my phone aside and reached for another tissue, but the box was empty. Wiping my nose with my sleeve for the time being, I went downstairs and grabbed another box from the bathroom closet. When I saw Theo’s toothbrush by the sink, I felt like stabbing him with it. How could he do this to me?
I took the box of tissues with me and went back upstairs, yanking off the top and pulling a clean one out. I considered getting dressed but couldn’t muster enough energy or the will to care what I looked like. I pulled on some flannel pants and thick socks, then tucked the tissue box under my arm again and went down to wait for Jaime.
Throwing myself down on the couch, I lay on my side and stared at the spot where he’d stood and given up on us. Where he’d kissed me for the last time. Where he’d broken my heart. How was I ever going to walk through this room and not remember that? Not feel the pain all over again?
Fresh sobs erupted, and I cried into tissue after tissue, letting them pile up on the floor in front of me.
When I heard the knock at the door, I sat up and stepped over them on my way to answer it. To my dismay, both Jaime and Quinn walked in.
“Sorry, he wouldn’t let me take him home,” Jaime said as she hugged me. “We were on our way to lunch.”