Page 94 of If You Were Mine (After We Fall 3)
“Can’t do what?” The tears began to fall, and I swiped at them with the sleeve of my robe. “I don’t understand.”
“I can’t—be with you.” His voice shook.
“Why?”
“I told you from the start. I’m no good for you.” He was delivering his lines, but his acting wasn’t good enough. As I stared at the man in front of me with the bloodshot eyes, face drained of color, hands flexing, I saw someone who hadn’t slept all night. I saw someone who hated what he was saying. I saw someone scared.
“Bullshit.”
His jaw clenched. “It’s the truth.”
“You’re running away.” It was as if a bell had pinged, and everything was crystal clear. “Like you always do. You’re giving up on us because you’re scared of what you feel. You’re worried you let me get too close.”
Color returned to his face as his anger spiked, but I wasn’t about to give him a chance to argue with me.
“And you’re scared of what I feel. This all started when I told you I love you.” The pieces were falling into place one by one. “That’s the real truth, and you know it.”
“Maybe it did start then,” he admitted. “But it only confirmed what I already knew—this has to end.”
“No, it doesn’t. Don’t go, Theo,” I changed tactics, pleading with him. Be gentle. “What we have is good. It’s scary because it’s powerful. And it makes you feel vulnerable. I know it’s hard for you to trust me, Theo. But you have to. I won’t leave you.”
“Don’t say that!” he exploded. “Don’t make promises like that. You won’t be able to keep them.”
“Yes, I will! That’s what it means to love someone this way. You stick around even when it’s difficult. You stay when it would be easier to go. You don’t give up.”
“It’s not enough. Love’s not enough to make someone stay. You think it will be, but it’s not.” His eyes shone, and in them I saw the hurt of a child who felt that he hadn’t been enough.
My heart was breaking. “I’m not her, Theo.”
“I have to go.” He turned for the door and I rushed straight at him, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to meet my eyes.
“Look at me. Look at me and tell me you don’t love me.”
“I can’t,” he said, his voice cracking.
“Tell me!” I cried, wishing I could shake him. “Tell me you don’t love me enough to stay!”
A sound of frustration ripped from his throat and he grabbed my head, crushing his lips to mine. I clung to him desperately, begging him with my lips and tongue and hands not to leave me, relieved when his arms came around me too. He loves me, he loves me, he loves me… I was drunk with it.
Five seconds later, he tore himself from my embrace and stormed out the front door.
I was alone. I was in shock. I was crushed.
But I had my answer.
He might love me…but not enough to stay.
Thirty-Six
Theo
* * *
Goddammit!
I slammed the door to my apartment and threw my keys at the wall, where they left
an angry black mark. But it didn’t relieve any tension, so I backhanded a lamp, knocking it off an end table.
