Страница 84 из 90
But then there were other days.
Days that Da
Those were the days his heart felt like it was being shredded.
Because when things were good, he thought about her constantly. Wondering if he’d made the wrong decision. How she was holding up. Whether or not she was angry with him.
Wondering if there was even the slightest chance she might take him back when this was all over.
He wasn’t sure it would even be possible to earn back her trust after everything he’d done, but on his good days, Da
And today had been decent for him, which meant it was a horrible day to attempt a conversation with her.
He couldn’t allow this temporary sense of well-being to sway him, because tomorrow, it could be gone, and there would be no way to guarantee if or when it would come back.
Da
He tried to summon the resistance he’d relied on so many times when the need for her pulled at him relentlessly. The same power that prevented him from dialing her number, despite the amount of times he’d gone into the call room to do exactly that. The same resistance that prevented him from sending her emails, despite the fact that he’d drafted several, only to delete them before logging out of the system.
Da
And so he resisted every urge he had to reco
But she was here. And he could feel the unmistakable tug in his body, his heart galloping in his chest.
He wanted so desperately to know what she was thinking in that moment. Why she had come. But he had absolutely no idea what the past month had looked like for her.
The one time Da
He vowed then and there never to bring her up with Jake again.
And he knew better than to ask Gram about her. She wouldn’t be as blunt as Jake, but her quiet disappointment in Da
Da
As he stood there, watching her watch him, there was a split second where he contemplated turning around. No good could come of this visit with her—he knew that—but the thought of walking away from her made his gut wrench. It was excruciating enough when he’d done it the first time, and he hadn’t prepared himself for the task of doing it again.
She wasn’t supposed to come back here.
He felt himself take a step in her direction before he’d even made a conscious decision to move, and then she stood, releasing her mother’s bracelet as her hands fell to her sides. He watched her curl and uncurl them into fists a few times before he lifted his eyes back to hers.
Now that he was closer, he could see the emotions fighting for control on her face: a knotty combination of sadness, fear, and determination.
Da
For a few seconds, they sat there in silence.
Da
“Knows I’m here,” she responded softly, and Da
Silence.
“He said I could have his visit if I promised to bring him back some Skittles.”
Da
Leah took a deep breath, her eyes on her lap as she said, “A long time ago, I asked you to stop playing games. And you promised me that you’d never lie to me.” She looked up and met his gaze. “I came here because I need to know the truth about something.”
Da
She wet her lips, the determination temporarily wi
Da
“Leah,” he said weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to tell me the truth.”
The seconds ticked by, hollow and unforgiving.
“Is it because you really don’t want me anymore?” she asked.
Da
“It’s a simple question,” she said, completely undeterred by his plea. “All I’m asking for is honesty.”
Da
“Are you afraid the truth will hurt me?” she asked. “Don’t be. Nothing you can say now will hurt me more than the words you said last time.”
Da
Her words hung in the air between them, acrid and insufferable, and Da
“Do you still love me?” she asked.
He took a breath before he looked across the table at her. This time, there was nothing behind her eyes but vulnerability, and he knew if she deserved an honest answer to any question, it was this one.
“Yes,” he said gently.
“And do you still want to be with me?”
“Leah—”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Enough of the run-around. I want an answer, Da
Da
It had been so long since he’d allowed himself a fantasy of that caliber. Dreams like that cost too much to entertain inside these walls.
But her words were warm and palliative in his veins, and for a moment, envisioning what she described didn’t feel torturous. It wasn’t a cruel act of masochism. It wasn’t a hopeless pipedream.
Because Leah was sitting in front of him, momentarily turning that fantasy into a promise.
He should have been used to it by now; from the moment she came into his life, she started reviving him—making him feel again, making him appreciate things, helping him learn how to forgive himself, making him think he was someone worthy of love. And here she was, offering to save him all over again.