Page 82 of A Moment for Us
Since then, I’ve been keeping my distance. I make sure that I don’t touch her or hold her hand like I did that day. None of that because we’re just friends who are going to co-parent.
But now, my hand is splayed against her spine, and she shivers in my arms while I wait for her to push me away. Instead, her pupils dilate, and when her tongue slides along her lips, I know.
She wants this.
I want this.
But . . .
Before I can think too much, she comes closer and she kisses me.
My hand moves up her back, holding her to me, losing myself in her. She tilts her head to the left, and I slide my tongue against hers. I drink in the slow moan that comes from her throat, and savor the taste of mint.
Delia and I clutch each other, holding on as the last few months of restraint crumble around us.
Holding on to her hip, my grip tightens, afraid she’ll pull away. I want this. I want her. I need everything and yet know I won’t give it to her.
As if she can feel me distancing myself, she turns her head to the side, both of us gasping for air.
“No.” The single word comes out like a bullet from the gun. “No. No.”
I lift my gaze to hers. “I know.”
“I think you living here is a mistake, Josh.”
“Why? I said I was going to be here to help you. I fucked up just now. I realize that, but if we’re going to be technical, you kissed me,” I say with a laugh, hoping to ease the tension.
Her lips purse.
“Okay, then technically, I didn’t ask or really want you to move in here. You did it for my safety, and we can all see that’s no longer an issue.”
“Maybe that was why in the beginning, but it’s changed. We’re friends, and . . . I want to be here for you and the babies.”
“Right,” she says before wiping her tears. “Okay, well,friend, here’s why I can’t handle this. Because it’s too hard to stop myself from wanting to kiss you. I keep wishing that you’ll fall madly in love with me. For you to see that, all this time, it’s been you for me. That’s never going to happen, is it?”
“Delia, I’m . . . I don’t want to hurt you.”
I want to make her happy. I want to give her all the things she’s asking for, but what about what I want? What about the fact that I didn’t want kids or a family or to live with someone else? I didn’t ask for this, but I’m doing the best I can to give us both what we need.
“You are hurting me! You’re hurting me, and I don’t get it. You danced with me, stare at me, you hold my hand, and I think: here it is. He’s finally going to let me in. And then you don’t.”
“I have always been honest about where this goes. Not once have I said differently.”
The one damn thing I have prided myself on is that. I’ve tried not to lie to her about the desire for more. I want it. I want it so fucking bad that I ache for it, but I don’t tell her.
She takes a step back. “No, you haven’t said it, but I feel it, Josh. So why won’t you even try?”
“Because I know the ending of this.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong. You don’t know the ending. I appreciate that you want to be here for the babies. They are going to need you, and I know that you’re going to be an amazing father, but I am losing my mind with you here. I get these glimpses of hope and then it’s gone. Why do you do these things that make me feel like there’s a chance for something when there isn’t? Please, just tell me what has you so sure that we can’t work. Is it me? Do you not want to be with me? If that’s the case, then why are you in my home? Just find your place so we can just co-parent.”
“It’s not that simple. It’s not that I want to be away from you.”
She shakes her head. “Then what? Because if it’s not that you don’t love me or can’t, then I don’t get it.”
I have been halfway in love with Delia Andrews for a long time, but saying it aloud would leave her open to hope. Giving her that would be the cruelest thing I could do to her because I’ve seen what that does to women I love.
I fail them.
