Page 89 of Best Man Speaking

“Okay.” She snuggles back down into the ridiculous pillow we’re sharing.

My answer isn’t a lie.

I’m curious as hell about her life in Edinburgh and if she’s going to go back to it.

If she wants to go back to it.

What it’ll mean if she doesn’t.

And what it will mean for me if she does.

“We can talk about it now,” I offer, fear clawing at my heart, even as I know it’s the right thing to do.

“No,” she replies into the dark, breaking my turbulent thoughts. “We can talk properly when we get home.”

Hallie stills, obviously not having intended those specific words to leave her lips.

Home.The place wherewestay together, on the same chunk of land, if not in the same bed, up until now. The place where we share meals and our spare time. The place where we’ve found each other again.

She’d called it home.

“Yeah,” I answer, voice slightly gruff. The anxiety that’d left Hallie not so long ago creeps its way toward me.

“Good.” And then, in a voice so soft I almost miss it, she says, “I miss talking to you.”

The room is silent once more as I start to stroke my fingers in small, relaxing circles on the skin of Hallie’s stomach, as much for her relaxation as it is for my own.

I can’t sleep, my mind racing while she rests in my arms, her skin warm and supple beneath my fingertips as I stroke along her stomach. In the near silence, my thoughts are loud, painfully so, as I take stock of my current predicament and the level of fucked I find myself in.

Home.

She’d called my house home. I’m unable to let it go, the words playing in my head until sleep’s no longer any type of option. And with good reason, it’s causing my anxiety to grow.

After my chat with Julian this morning, I’m more and more relieved that Hallie has slowed things down between us tonight. I’m not worthy of her trust, not yet.

Jules had been right when he’d confronted me earlier. It’s not fair that I’ve let things go this far with Hallie. That what’d started off as a way to work off our physical attraction had turned into more without either of us really being honest with the other.

I don’t blame her for not telling me about her life sooner—that she’s about to purchase an apartment in Edinburgh. That she has a place that she’s decided to make into a home for herself. That she has a full and whole life to return to, full of people who care for her and most likely want her back.

I can’t be mad about it because I’d been no better. If anything, I’d been worse. I’d been the one to initiate the rules, brokering a lack of communication between us.

And she deserves better. So much better than what I’m able to offer. It’s always been the case.

It had been the case when we were teenagers. When her father had personally delivered to me the one item that, surprisingly, had been left for me in her grandmother’s will.

Her engagement ring.

The ring Hallie had admired, along with the love story between her grandmother and her William. A love story of childhood sweethearts.

Hallie’s father might not have had the right to say what he did, but he hadn’t been wrong when he caught me sneaking out of his house and told me that his eighteen-year-old daughter deserved better. Had deserved more from life than to be engaged, let alone married at such a young age. That he and his ex-wife had messed her up enough, and she didn’t need to follow in their footsteps. Not when the love we had would likely fade with age and maturity.

He’d been wrong in assuming that I hadn’t loved her enough to give her the world, because that’s exactly what I’d done. I’d pushed Hallie toward the world and the adventure she’d always spoken of instead of pulling her toward me.

Uncomfortable in my own skin, I release Hallie gently and roll onto my back, pulling a discarded pillow from the floor to stack behind my head.

I check my phone, picking it up from where we’d left them on the nightstand.

It holds a single new notification.

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