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My voice cracks. “Is it because you left that morning and feel bad about it?”

Connor goes rigid.

I press on, laying bare all my suspicions and fears. “Please, tell me the truth. You wouldn’t have let another man touch me. Especially when you were right there. Watching me all the time. So tell me again. Lie to me again that you are not Chris.”

I hold my breath, waiting for his response. Waiting to see if he’ll finally give me the answers I crave.

“Fuck. Why can’t you forget him?” His hands release mine.

“Were you at the party or not?”

“Yes, but I’m not Chris.” He searches my face. “You still don’t believe me, do you?”

I want to believe him—but doubt still lingers.

“Are you still in love with Chris?” His voice is quiet. Resigned. “Because if you are, that’s fine. I understand. I just can’t do this if you’re only with me because you wish I were him. Fuck. I can be your rebound, but don’t call me Chris. Ever.”

“You…” He would do what for me? “Why would you be okay with me using you?”

He shrugs. “I’d do anything for you. Even if it meant settling for less than I want.”

“How can you even think that? You’re far from a rebound for me. You’re…”

As I search Connor’s eyes, realization washes over me. It doesn’t matter if he’s Chris or not. What matters is how he makes me feel—safe, desired, cared for.

With Chris, it was all built on mystery and anonymity. But Connor sees me, all of me, even the parts I try to hide. He challenges me, frustrates me, and cares for me. I’ve never let someone in like this before. Never trusted someone with my heart.

Deep down, I wanted Connor to be Chris. Wanted to rewrite that story with a happy ending instead of being left confused and hurt. Because then it would somehow fix things and make me feel less abandoned.

Chris was a fantasy, a fleeting connection. But what Connor and I share goes far beyond that.

There’s pain in his eyes. He’s laid himself bare, willing to accept any scrap I offer. But he deserves so much more. Deserves to be loved wholly and completely, like he loves me.

I was so focused on my obsession with Chris that I almost lost sight of what was right in front of me. A man who would move heaven and earth if I asked, who saw through all my walls and still thought I was worth fighting for.

It’s time I stop living in the past and stop waiting for something that will never be. Chris is gone, but Connor is here. And he’s real. Tangible, in a way, Chris never was.

I reach out, cupping his cheek with my palm. He closes his eyes and leans into my touch, some of the tension leaving his body.

“I lo—”

“Don’t.” His single word slices through my heart. “Don’t say that word if you don’t mean it.”

“I love you, Connor. Not Chris. You.”

He goes very still, staring at me with that unreadable expression. “Are you really sure? Or do you just love the idea of me being your Chris?”

“Connor…”

“How can you possibly love me? When all you think about is Chris and even think I am him.” He gently removes my hand from his cheek. “I need to go.”

He strides to the door, but I rush forward to block his path. “No, wait. Please. We’re not done.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Chris was just a fantasy. You’re real. You’re the one who’s here for me, who knows me, who—” I take his hand in mine. “Who I want to be with. I’m sorry I brought it up. Please, I don’t want Chris. I want you, Connor. The real you.”

Connor places a soft kiss on my head. “I want you to. More than anything, Blue. But I just need to think, and you should, too. I care about you. A lot. But I’m not the man of your fantasies. I’m not Chris. I’m just me.”

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