Page 137 of Embracing the Beat
“That word was used to describe you several times,” she teases again, and my lips ache with the need to taste her smile.
“Justifiably.”
“What did you and Sawyer talk about?” she asks, fidgeting slightly in my lap, the friction having a predictable effect.
“How sorry I am. How much I wish I hadn’t hurt you, and how I would do anything to make up for it.”
“So what we talked about.”
“About how I’m not walking away again. I won’t give you up without a fight. Even if it means only being the father of your child.”
Her gaze flies to mine. “What did Sawyer say?”
“He asked me why.” A half smile pushes at the corners of my mouth.
She snorts. “Sounds like Sawyer.”
“Do you want to know what I told him?”
Her expression turns curious, and her tongue slicks across her lips before she nods.
“Y-yes.”
“I told him whether he hated me or not, I couldn’t give you up. That my life is meaningless without you,” I begin, and she takes an audible breath. “I told him how much I hated that I’d hurt you. That I wished I could travel back in time so I could kick my own ass before I did. That even if I never get another shot with you, I love you. More than I could ever imagine loving another person. You came into my life when I wasn’t looking for my soulmate, and I was powerless to stop our connection.”
Tears stream down her cheeks, and I shift both of my hands to capture the moisture.
“Don’t cry. I love you so goddamned much. I was the idiot who didn’t see how you were the center of my universe until I pushed you away and was left with only darkness. You’re it for me. Even if you never return those feelings. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here where I can be a part of our child’s life, a part of your life in whatever capacity you’ll allow me. I love you. And until the breath leaves my body, I will never stop.”
Her eyes sparkle, luminous with tears, both falling and filling her eyes.
“I hate to see you cry,” I murmur. “Hate that you’re crying because of me. Again.”
She doesn’t say anything, just watches me with those bright eyes, and I resign myself to letting her go. It’s time to go back to the hotel and dream of her like I have every night since she left. Every night since I destroyed us.
I resign myself to the half-life of remembering what it’s like to hold her in my arms while knowing I can’t keep her.
