Page 94 of Holly Ever After

Turning on my side, I replay our heated exchange in the maze over and over. Every word, every gesture, every touch—it’s as if it's all engraved in my memory. I try to shove the thoughts away, attempt to bring some peace to my restless mind, but it's no use. They keep resurfacing.

And then my mind takes a cruel turn, imagining a future I have no business thinking about. Holly, here in town, her laughter filling the air, her hand wrapped around another man's arm. The thought of her, with children, with a family that isn't mine—it tightens my chest. A hot surge of jealousy and possessiveness courses through me. I shouldn't care, but the very thought of her with someone else... I clench my fists, fighting the urge to punch something.

Believe me, if I could punch myself right now, I would.

In the past, I had held on to this vague hope that things could return to the way they were before—simple, uncomplicated. But now? After feeling the heat of her lips, the softness of her skin? The memories taunt me, making it impossible to go back to any semblance of normalcy.

I'd lied to her in the maze. I told her she meant nothing, but damn it, she means everything. More than I ever anticipated, more than I’m ready to admit.

My mother was right.

I’m a fucking idiot.

Tossing the covers aside, I rise from the bed, every muscle taut with tension. The door beckons, promising relief just beyond it.

“Fuck it,” I growl, deciding to throw caution to the wind.

Thirty-Seven

Holly

The weight of being inside Sean's house presses in on me from every angle. Every object, every sound, every scent is him, and it's overwhelming. I can't seem to escape the ache that twists inside me. A sob lodges in my throat, unshed tears threatening to spill.

I roll over for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find comfort on the plush pillows and thick duvet, but the more I try to find sleep, the more elusive it becomes. Everywhere I look, everywhere I turn, I'm drowning in him. The pain of his words in the maze digs at me like a splinter in my heart, reminding me of the void that now stands between us.

Why am I even here? Why did he bring me to his house, of all places? He could've just dropped me off at home, kept the distance between us intact. But no, he pulled me into his orbit once again, making me question everything I thought I knew.

I can't stay in this room any longer. It's stifling, and I need to breathe.

Pushing the covers away, I stand and move to the door, craving the cool air of the night. But as I pull the door open, I'm met with a sight that roots me to the spot.

Sean stands just down the hallway, his steps paused, his gaze fixed on me. The shadows cast by the dim lights carve out the sharp planes of his face, adding a raw intensity to his expression. He looks almost predatory, eyes trailing down my form, taking in the sight of me clad only in his oversized t-shirt.

I feel exposed, vulnerable. The air is thick, charged with an electric tension that makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. I can't breathe, can't move, can't think. His gaze, full of heat and questions, burns into me, demanding answers I don't know how to give.

Silence stretches between us, time seemingly frozen in this single moment. The weight of our past, the lingering pain of his words, and the undeniable attraction that's always pulsed between us collide, creating a maelstrom of emotions.

There's so much we haven't said, so much we've held back. But that look in his eyes—it's unmistakable. It's a reflection of everything I've been feeling, the confusion, the yearning, the desperate need to bridge the gap that's grown between us. That look says more than words ever could.

You can’t hide anymore, Sean Colson.

“You lied,” I whisper, feeling my heart ready to pound out of my chest.

He takes a step forward, the muscles in his jaw ticking. “I lied.”

My hands are trembling as I grip the doorway, everything in me tensing as he comes toward me. “This is not nothing.”

He swallows, his stare blistering. “It’s not nothing.”

What is it?

Say it, Sean. Say something.

He reaches me in the next breath, my skin achingly aware of him.

His hand cradles the side of my face, leaning down so that his forehead rests against mine, and I can feel the ragged pace of his breathing.

“You always have, and you always will be too good for me. But I’m starting to feel selfish,” he begins, his voice raw. “I can’t sleep. I close my eyes, and I see you, and it's driving me insane. I've tasted you. And god, it’s like a drug. I'm trapped in this endless loop, craving more. Every night, I wake up from dreams where you're just out of reach, and it's torture. I've tried to fight it, tried to deny it. But after having you, I don't think I can ever get enough. You're my obsession, my torment…” He swallows again, pressing his thumb to the base of my throat. “You’re my fucking reckoning.”

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