I reach for her, but she ducks out of my way.
She loves me.
“You’d be exhausted too if you couldn’t sleep in your own bed because of the memories there, and instead you crash on your brother’s lumpy couch every night.”
“Baby—”
“I had just learned to trust you, to trust what I was feeling for you, Simon. I opened myself up to you.”
“I know.”
“And now you think that you can show up here, get a black eye, apologize, and everything would be okay? You can’t just fix this with that smile of yours.”
“I know that too.” I sigh, wanting to pull her into my arms so badly that it hurts. She stomps over to the door and pulls it open, and it’s exactly like the day I left.
“I want you to leave.”
“No.” I stay where I am, staring at the woman I love. “Not until you hear me out. And then, if you want to throw me out, I’ll go and not come back. But I came a long way to see you and to say a few things.”
She closes the door, not slamming it, which gives me a bit of hope, then turns around and crosses her arms over her chest, waiting.
“You have five minutes. I have to work today.”
God, she’s tough.
“First, you should know that I am completely and irreversibly in love with you.”
She blinks, but her expression doesn’t change, and the pit in my stomach grows.
“Amy fucked me up. I didn’t know just how much until I’d fallen in love with you and the baggage kept rearing its ugly head. I know that leaving, especially the way I did, was absolutely wrong, but to be honest, Charly, I’m glad it happened that way. I needed to go home and set some things right before I could make them right with you.”
I swallow and pace the room.
“I don’t mean that I had to make anything right with Amy, or my parents. I needed to make it right with me. I was convinced that I’d never be able to shake the blinding jealousy I had every time another man looked at you.” I turn to her now in time to see her frown. But she doesn’t interrupt. “I’d never been jealous in my life. I didn’t like it. And when I saw you with Ryan, my first instinct was to run because I convinced myself that I would never live through another repeat of what happened with Amy.”
“I’m not Amy,” she says.
“No. You’re not. And it took some time and some soul searching for me to realize that I was, well, intensely fucked up.” I sigh and shove my hands through my hair. “Amy came to see me.”
She cocks a brow.
“She was her usual, manipulative self, and not only did I not give a fuck about what she had to say, but it drove home for me that you are nothing like Amy. You are so kind and sweet and loving. You’re everything she isn’t, and I knew that I’d not only screwed up, but that I needed to come make it right.
“But first, I spent about a week in intense therapy, coming to terms with a lot of what happened in my life before you.”
“I’m glad,” she says softly. “I’m very happy for you, Simon, that you worked on yourself and that you’re in a better place.”
Just when my hopes rise, she turns to me and crushes them down again.
“But I just don’t know if I can trust you again.”
I nod, and feel my heart sink to my knees. I’m too late. I hurt her too badly.
I cross to her and drag my knuckles down her cheek. She doesn’t pull away this time. The feel of her soft skin is a balm to my wounded soul.
“I understand,” I say, my voice gruff. “I’m sorry for everything, Charlotte. I love you.”
Just as I’m about to pull away, she lays a hand on my chest.
“Wait.” She squeezes her eyes shut for a brief moment, then looks up at me. “I didn’t say no. I said I don’t know.”
I wait, watching her lovely face as she struggles with herself, and that makes me hurt almost as much as the idea of losing her completely. I’ve hurt her so badly.
“I want the chance to make this all up to you, love.”
“I need some time to think about all of this,” she says at last. “I can’t just jump back into this with you.”
“It’s a trust thing,” I reply with a smile and tuck her hair behind her ear. “I’ll be here for as long as you need. I’m staying at the same hotel I was at last time. You can come to me, or call, anytime, day or night.”
She nods and steps back as I open the door.
“Simon?”
“Yes, love.”
“Thank you.”
I nod and leave before I pull her into my arms and carry her upstairs to her bed.
“You and I need to talk,” Savannah Boudreaux says when I open the door to her knock.