Page 153 of Two-Step
“I-I screwed up, didn’t I?” she asks, her voice trembling.
I frown, edging back. “What? No.” If anyone’s to blame for how we got here, it’s me. I’m older. More experienced. I knew from the beginning it couldn’t last, and I still let it happen.
My one regret is hurting her. I wouldn’t take back anything else. Not a single moment.
“I did. I told you how I feel. I shouldn’t have,” she says in a rush. “It’s too soon. Too much.”
I’m shaking my head before she even finishes. I take two steps toward her but stop myself. “It’s not. Look—” I drag a hand down my face, frustration second only to the agony edging every one of my nerve endings. I may not have the right words, but I refuse to lie to her. “It can’t be too soon or too much because I feel it too. I’ve been wanting to tell you.”
Her grip on the footboard eases. Everything about her eases. “Why didn’t you?” Her voice is soft, reminding me of her innocence. Her youth.
She is light embodied. The brightest of all suns. I’m lucky just to be in her orbit.
“Because. You might be mine to love, but you’re not mine to keep.”
Iris’s face—the most expressive I’ve ever seen—closes down, her light dimming. “What do you mean?”
“I mean what we have isn’t meant to last.” Even as I say the words, I taste their falsehood. What I feel for Iriswilllast. It will remain with me for the rest of my days. But I can’t tell her that. “You need to go back to California, and I need to stay here.”
“So that’s what this is about?” she asks, frowning. “Me asking you to come with me? Offering to stay? Beau, I love you. I don’t want to give this up. Do you?”
A wave of anguish breaks over me. “Of course not,” I say, but the words are hollowed out. “But—”
“Then let’s try to figure this out,” she says, eyes widening in hope. Her words rush from her, urgent and grasping. “I can take some time off. I could stay here for a while until we decide on our next move. I’m sure I could extend the lease another—”
“Hell, no.” Fear chokes me, turning the words into a growl. Stay here? Extend her lease? Give up everything she’s worked for? It’s madness.
“I won’t let you do this,” I swear through clenched teeth. “This isyourmoment. And believe me when I say that a moment is more than most people get. I won’t be the reason you give it up.”
Iris steps closer to me, tenderness the only emotion in her eyes. “Beau, I’d never hold you responsible—”
“I would.”
“Beau—” She reaches for me. I step back.
“No,” I manage, yanking up a hand. I can’t touch her right now. I can’t touch her ever again. I won’t be able to go through with this if I do.
And I have to go through with this. Her future—her happiness—depends on it. And her happiness is all that matters. I refuse to be the selfish bastard in her life.
I clear my aching throat and force myself to meet her eyes. And goddamn it if she doesn’t look crushed.
Her happiness is all that matters. She’ll thank me later.
“I’m sorry, Iris. I hate hurting you—”
“Then don’t.” Her voice catches ondon’t, her eyes wide and wet. It fucking kills me.
“I hate hurting you,” I say again through clenched teeth. “But this is over.”
“Beau.”My name is little more than a gasp. The color drains from her face, and I watch as she clutches her middle, as if crossing her arms over her most vulnerable parts could spare her the pain I’m delivering.
She’s so pale, I flashback to that first night—our first dance lesson—when I saw her for who she was and not whom I’d expected her to be. Someone loving. Someone fragile. Someone so innocent and funny and beautiful.
Someone unlike anyone else I’ve even known.
“I’m sorry, Iris.” I say her name one last time.
And then I’m gone.
