“Job offers?” I move toward him and sit against the wall at his side. “What kind of jobs?”
“The kind that paid for this house.”
There were side jobs over the years, as well as other means to collect assets.
I struggle to swallow.
“The dangerous kind,” he says woodenly, “that send me out of the country for months. Sometimes years.”
I tense. “Are you considering—?”
“I would never consider a job away from you.” He lifts his arm, inviting me to tuck in beneath it.
Curling up against his side, I rest my cheek on his shoulder and watch his eyes roam over the room, his gear, the guns, the pieces and parts of a life he was once so passionate about. He misses it more than he lets on.
He chose me, and I chose him. Yet we both still yearn for what we no longer have. It’s profound. And depressing.
Let It Go plays again, saturating the atmosphere with bittersweet dread. The vocals croon about a relationship that will never succeed, no matter how much two people care. It hits too close to home.
“This song is so sad.” I trace the line of his jaw, trying to smooth out the tension. “Why are you listening to it?”
“I know what you’re doing.”
I drop my hand, unsure.
“You’re trying so hard to make this work.” His voice cracks. “But the heart wants what the heart wants.”
I jerk back. “No—”
“He’s not physically here, but he’s here nonetheless, always between us.” His gaze drills into mine. “You’re settling.”
“Damn right, I’m settling.” I ball my hands on my lap. “I’m settling into a beautiful life with a man who takes my breath away. I chose you, Cole. I’m with you.”
“Someone told me once that love isn’t a choice,” he says softly.
I snap my mouth shut, and my legs tremble against the floor.
“Why do you think I wanted you to wait six months?” He ghosts his fingers over my left hand, caressing the engagement band. “I didn’t want you to choose. I wanted it to happen. I wanted it to rise inside you and become the beat of your heart.” He lowers his voice, as if speaking to himself. “The most decisive actions are the ones with the least consideration.”
“What are you saying?”
“The day you forced yourself to decide, I knew. When Trace walked out that door, I saw it in your eyes.” Resolve sits on his face, sinking in his cheeks. “You voiced a decision your heart wasn’t ready to make.”
I want to shake him and tell him he’s wrong. Except everything he said rings true.
“I’ve watched you fight an inner battle for seven months.” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “You’re fighting a war with your heart.”
Smarting pain jolts through me. “If that’s the case, why did I choose you?”
“I was your first. The logical choice.” He strokes my hair, his breaths growing choppy. “But the heart isn’t logical. Sometimes, we don’t know what we want until it’s gone.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I climb onto his lap, desperate to hold him. “I love you.
“I know you do.” He folds his arms around me, pulling my chest against his and tucking my head beneath his chin. “But you love him more.”
I dig my nails into his shoulders, clutching tightly. Is that what the universe has been trying to tell me? Does it mean anything? I’m engaged to Cole. I love Cole. We have to work through this.
He goes still against me, like he’s holding his breath. Like he’s bracing for something that’s going to harm us so deeply it’ll change us on a molecular level.
I lean back and choke on a whimper. His expression is a canvas of suffering, twisted with the fall of ruptured dreams coursing down his cheeks. His tears. His quiet, broken defeat.
“Don’t make that face.” My throat closes, and a sob escapes as I frantically dry his cheeks with my hands. “Don’t give up on me.”
“I lost you, baby. I lost you the morning I got into that cab and left you crying on the porch.” He pulls me against him, his embrace constricting and his mouth at my ear. “I’m not giving up. I’m letting you go.”
I shatter in his arms, sucking jagged, throat-scraping gulps of air. I reach for him, his shoulders, his hands, clinging with desperation. He holds me through painful tears, crying with me, as I come to terms with the heartless truth.
As hard as we try and as much as we care, we’ve gone too far to go back to the morning we met. We began with a deep connection, a soul tie that made us comfortable, maybe even codependent, so much so neither of us could fathom ending it completely and not being in each other’s life.