Page 89 of Layla

The moment the words leave her mouth, her eyes widen, like she’s surprised. And my heart fucking breaks. Because I know what it costs her, to say those words. Can guess that she probably only said them a handful of times in her life. A few hours ago, I would have given anything to hear her say those words.

But now they just hurt like hell. Because I can’t say them back. And I know that her loving me is a mistake. It will only end up hurting her more.

“Go to bed.” I barely recognize my voice, it’s so rough.

She stares up at me, disbelieving. “Tell me we can talk tomorrow.”

I look down at her, soaking in the sight of her, trying to store it up in my heart for the miserable weeks that are sure to come. I don’t want to lie to her. But I also know my resolve will only weaken the longer I stand here looking at her. Besides, what’s a lie compared to all the other shit I’ve already done to this woman?

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, somehow fighting back the urge to groan with all the longing and pain building up in my chest. God, I love her hair.

I loveher.

But it’s not enough.

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” The lie is bitter on my tongue and for a moment I’m sure she won’t believe it. But then she relaxes a little, rising up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to my cheek. And because I’m a selfish bastard, I let her, closing my eyes to breathe in the familiar scent of her, relishing the softness of her lips against my skin, the nearness of her body to mine. When she pulls back, I give her one last, weak smile. One last weak lie. Then I go out to the living room, alone, and pull out my phone.