Page 65 of Love.V2
Was anything I did ever going to be enough? The question reverberated uncomfortably in my head. My chest.
“I’m sorry. I guess…I guess I’m still more hurt than I realized about…everything that happened before.”
“I thought we were moving past some of this together. Fresh start.” My shoulders sagged. I really had thought we were in a better place. How long would it take to win her trust back? Could I ever? She was still hurt, and as a twisting heat curled around my intestines, I realized I was, too.
Had any of this mattered? The cold, shocked feeling of the night she left floated uncomfortably close in my memory. Had we made any progress here at all? Maybe we had new hobbies and a new appreciation for each other, but was she still going to pull away from me at the first sign of difficulty?
“We were.” She picked at her cuticles. I hadn’t seen her do that in weeks. “Weare. It just caught me off guard.”
I swallowed the tightness in my throat, trying to see it from her perspective, feel what she would be feeling. I had a long history of neglecting her for my career. I could understand that.
Maybe I was asking the wrong question. Maybe it wasn’t “will she pull away again?” and more “am I going to let her pull away again?”
I was on my knees in front of her before I could fully process that thought, already committed. I rubbed soothing circles around her ankles.
“I need you to talk to me, Angel. When something bothers you, or you’re worried.” I squeezed her knees. “I’m sorry you felt like it was old times again. I should have told you I’m still working on some stuff with Worther. I honestly didn’t think it mattered. But I can be more transparent about that if you need, as long as youtalk to me, too.”
Her body relaxed as I spoke, face transforming from doubt to relief to something like an apology. “I’m sorry. You’re right.” Her forehead pressed against mine, fingers stroking my cheeks. “I should have handled it differently.”
“It’s okay if you need time to think about something, or need to be alone. But you have to tell me what’s up. Then come back, eventually.”Please.Don’t leave me again.
I felt her nod, my eyes falling closed as she wrapped her arms around me. “I will. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
Her lips were warm against mine. We were good. Now that I knew she had this trigger, I could avoid it in the future.
Lying in bed that night, Tess’s even breaths blowing across my chest, I stared at the ceiling. It was lit up every few minutes by silent texts from Danny, who was still churning through that presentation.
Even though I left my phone where it was on the side table, I had the uneasy realization that I had triggers, too.
Three Years Ago
Tess
“I’m almost done.” Dylan spoke before I’d made it fully into the doorway of his office. This was such a frequent exchange for us, I apparently didn’t even need to speak anymore.
Still. “It’s almost midnight.”
“I know.”
“And it’s not even a school day tomorrow,” I cajoled, wrapping my arms around his chest from behind. Friday night usually meant ordering a pizza and throwing on HBO, but that little ritual had been getting skipped a lot recently.
“Every day is a school day now,” Dylan murmured, eyes on his laptop. I tried to ignore the tightness in my stomach. Ever since his promotion a few months ago, it felt like I lost a little more of him every week.
I should say something, I thought. I hated how he was so consumed with work. He needed a break, and I…needed him. I missed him.
Dylan’s fingers tapped decisively on the keyboard and an email jettisoned off into the Internet ether.
He spunaround, sliding his hands from my hips to my ribcage as he pulled me into his lap. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I smiled. This was more like it. Maybe he’d just had a busy couple of weeks. This new role was hard—more demanding than he was used to. I wasn’t losing him; it was just the ebb and flow of working at a higher level. Now that he was working with more international clients, it was normal to have wonky hours, right? This wouldn’t be forever.
My skin tingled where his hands roamed—my arms, bare legs, arching neck.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” he teased, leaning forward to run his nose up the length of my throat, inhaling.
“Youshould be in bed,” I shot back, tilting my head to give him better access. “You know I don’t sleep well without you.”
