Page 135 of Hoax and Kisses
“Ruth gave me the worst room,” she says. “Though at first, she refused to let me stay at all, so it’s a win, I guess.”
My stomach drops. I can’t believe she’s been living like this for a week.
“These are for you,” I say a bit hoarsely, handing her the bouquet, then sit on the edge of the bed, wincing when it creaks under my weight.
“Thank you.” She takes the flowers and inhales deeply, then sets them on the other bed.
My legs jiggle relentlessly, my pulse hammering in my ears like it’s desperate to reach her. I don’t know why I thought I could sit down for this. I get up, raking a hand through my hair.
I’m about to speak, but she beats me to the punch. “Matt, I—”
“Please, let me go first,” I cut in, urgency in my tone, despite my best efforts to stay calm.
Her lips stretch into a ghost of a smile, and she nods. “Go ahead.”
“I’m sorry for not running after you after the town hall. I should have picked up Daphne and followed you to Oli’s. We’ve been miserable without you. We miss you so much.”
Zoé takes a step closer and lays her hand on my forearm. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I asked you for space, and you gave it to me. He’smydad, and he trickedme.” Her voice wavers on that last part. “I needed to figure this out myself.”
I deflate, some of the anxiety flooding out of me. My fingers ache to curl around her face and bring her to me.
“You did. But you needed me, and I know how easy it is for you to clam up. I should have done more to keep you safe. I should have at least fought for you that night.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and I brush them away as they crest her lashes.
“I’m sorry too,” she says, her voice shaking. “For putting us in this situation. I should have known he’d pull shit like that. And for hurting Daphne. God, her screams still haunts me. Is she okay?”
I tangle my fingers in the softness of her hair, pushing it away from her face. She leans into my touch. “She will be once you come back home, honey. She misses you.”
She smiles, finally, then tilts her chin to the side, pressing her lips to my palm.
I exhale at the touch, my body going slack with relief. With my free hand, I bunch her rumpled shirt and tug her flush against me. The hitch of her breath lands softly on my chest and triggers a wave of shivers all the way to my toes. “I just want to know if you’re okay.”
“I’m better now that you’re here.” She worries her lip, her eyes big and full of warmth. Then, she places her hand above my heart like she knows exactly who it belongs to. “I didn’t know how much I needed to see you.”
“The past week has been rough,” I say, still stroking her hair. “I hated not being with you, being kept in the dark, not being able to help when Iknewyou were struggling. You have no idea what I’d do for you. No idea how much I love you.” I whisper the words, our mouths only inches apart. “No idea. And that’s my fault. I failed to make it clear to you before, so let me try now.”
I lean in, brushing my lips against hers with all the reverence she deserves.
“You made me love you so much that the life I had before you now feels so depressing. You’ve ruined me in the most exquisite way.”
Tears well in her eyes again. I swear, if she starts to sob, I’ll forget how to stand. I cradle her face like she’s the most fragile, sacred thing I’ve ever held.
“You made me love you so much,” I murmur, my voice breaking under the torrent of my emotions, “that nothing matters if you’re not by my side. I don’t want to exist in a world where you’re not mine. I don’t want space. I want you snug against me all the time. Come back to me. We’ll figure this all out together. You and me. Let me love you every damn day until we’re old and gray, swearing at kids who run through our yard and mess up the flowers I just planted.”
A teary laugh escapes her, her hands balling into fists over my chest, clutching my shirt. “Can we fast forward to that part?”
I respond with a kiss to the tip of her nose before I bury my face in her neck, inhaling her scent that I missed so much.
“When I left that night,” she adds, more serious now. “I told myself that Ineededto do this alone, that it was all on me to fix because it was my mess. It would have gutted me if the rest of the town thought badly of you because you were involved with me. Better they blame the outsider, you know.”
I lace my fingers with hers, squeezing some strength into her.
“But taking space from you might have been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do,” she continues. “Do you know how many times I picked up the phone to call you? How many times I almost drove to your place and banged on your door?” She sniffles back more tears. “I kept myself busy, but everything reminded me of you. Flowers I saw when I took a walk to get some fresh air. The slice of pizza I microwaved in the hotel lobby downstairs one evening. Even freakingchickensin a field yesterday made me a sobbing mess.”
“It’s roosters,” I whisper.
Why the hell are you even correcting her?
