Say You're Mine(56)

“Get over it,” she snapped, shoving him backward. “And while you’re at it, get out, too.”

“Shit. I didn’t mean to say that.” He squared his jaw. “I’ve been trying to think of what to say to you all damn day, and that wasn’t it.”

“Then say nothing at all. Just go.”

He hesitated. “Lauren, I—”

“No. I don’t want to hear it. You’re mad I lied? Well, fine. Be mad. See if I care. But I lied because I loved you, and you took that and turned it into some horrible, monstrous thing. And that makes you the bad person, not me.” She poked him in the chest. “You left me.” She poked him again. “You walked away.” Again. “And you’re the one who decided to be done with us.” Backing off, she shook her head. “You’re the one who’s okay. I’m not.”

“Okay?” He laughed and dropped his clothes to the floor. He advanced on her, and she stumbled back a step before she forced herself to stand still. “What part of this makes you think I’m okay?”

“You left me. Told me you were done with me.” She lifted her chin. “And you’re obviously okay with that.”

He flexed his jaw and took a step toward her. “I wasn’t kidding earlier. I can’t sleep.”

“Me either.”

Another step. One more, and he’d be holding her in his arms, and she couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t fall back into his arms. “I can’t breathe without you there. I mean, I can, but it’s not the same. So, yeah, I can’t fucking breathe.”

“Me either.”

He closed the distance between them. They were toe to toe, and it would be so easy to give in. To let him kiss her and make her feel better. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. So much.” She held her hand up, placing it on his chest, to keep him from coming any closer. “And you see, that’s what makes this whole thing so much harder. I loved you, and I let you in. I really, truly, loved you. And you didn’t see that, or care, and you left…just like everyone else.”

Something inside of him seemed to break. He covered her hand with his, his face ravaged. “Shit. I’ve been trying to come up with a way to truly express how much I regret walking away that night. I was upset. I was an idiot. But I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never intentionally do that to you.”

“Well, you did. You asked me to ignore all my fears and let you in, and swore you wouldn’t hurt me, or leave me. You promised me.” She swallowed hard and tears trailed down her cheeks. So much for her vow to stop crying over him. “And then you did both of those things in one night. You ruined everything, and you ruined me. I hate you for that. I love you, but God, I hate you, too. So much.”

He shook his head, his hands in tight fists at his sides. “No. You can’t hate me.”

“Yeah, I can.”

He stared at her, not speaking.

“Go on. Walk away again.” She stepped away from him and hugged herself. “It’s what you’re good at, right? Show me one last time.”

“Lauren—I fucked up.” He shoved a hand through his hair and locked eyes with her. What was hidden there—desperation and pain—echoed within her soul. “When I found out you lied, I just—”

She swallowed. “Ran. You ran.”

“Yeah.” He dropped his hand back to his side and curled his fingers into a ball. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

She held on to her elbows tightly. It was the only way she’d be able to stop herself from reaching out and grabbing him—and never letting go. But after he hurt her, left her, ruined her…she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t fall fast, and hard, like she had last time.

Never again.

All those years, she’d been right to hold her heart close.

“Good-bye, Steven.”

“I’m sorry, Lauren,” he rasped, his eyes threatening to pull her into their stormy hazel depths. “So damn sorry.”

Closing her lids, closing him out, she shook her head. He was a rabbit hole, and she was Alice, but she wouldn’t fall down again. “You need to go.”

He didn’t move.

Neither did she.

Finally, she sensed him bend down and pick up his stuff. He walked toward the door, but stopped in front of her. He ran his thumb over her jaw and bent down, kissing her forehead. “I’ll go, but I’m going to fix this.”

Her heart twisted and turned, and it took all her control not to open her eyes. Not to lean in and wait for another kiss. “There’s nothing left to fix.”