Page 110 of Unlocked Dive
“Yep. Good job.” My sarcastic gesture takes in the—admittedly small—apartment. “Lots of space.”
“Are you sorry I’m here?” His brow creases with confusion.
“Of course not.”
“Then what—?”
“Whyare you here, Coen?” The way his eyes glow when I use his real name resurrects all those damn butterflies. “You didn’t come all the way here to find out about Thor. You were already on my fucking doorstep when I sent the stupid text.”
“I was at the train station, actually. I don’t have my EU SIM card yet, so I lost service when I left the Wi-Fi.”
“Stop it. You know what I’m trying to say. What does thismean?” My hand flutters vaguely between us, woefully inadequate to harness the immensity of the question.
“It means I’m here.” He takes a step toward me and frowns when I back away. “It means I’m staying.”
“Until when?”
“Until forever.”
Forever?
Don’t fucking pass out, Echo.
“What about your job and the cabin and your life?”
“I quit my job and rented out the cabin.”
“What? No. You’re not supposed to do that shit anymore. You’re not allowed to sacrifice things for the people you—”Love. The word sticks in my throat, bitter with the names of everyone who came before me. “—For me.”
“Are you telling me to leave?”
Fucking hell.Is he being deliberately obtuse?
Whirling from his earnest confusion, I stalk back into the bedroom. If I’m doing this now, I need him to put on a fucking shirt. He follows me—because this is what he does now, apparently. Like all the pain he put me through since I left him in SF was pointless, and everything I did to him…was exactly what he expected.
“Are you mad at me?” he asks, startling when I throw one of my shirts at him. Not that it will fit his massive caveman chest. “I thought—”
“Shut up.” I scrub my hands through my hair as he slowly tugs my shirt over his head and sits gingerly on the edge of the bed. “Okay, look. I know the last time we really talked, I gave you a lot of shit about notknowingme. I was fucking hurt that you hadn’t told me about your past, and that you didn’t trust me to know my own heart and what was best for it.
“But…I get it—even if I don’t want to. Because Itoldyou I was broken and then made my weaknesses your responsibility. And I didn’t just dump all the work of fixing me onto you, I decided what that looked like and made up my own rules—the same way everyone else in your life always has.”
No more greedy, childish Echo.
It’s my turn to confess.
The worn carpet chafes my knees when I sink to the floor, and the late-afternoon sunlight is a brand across my bare shoulders and a halo in his hair.
“Iwas the selfish one, Coen. I constantly demanded things you weren’t ready to give, without ever stopping to consider what it might cost you.
“So yeah, maybe you should have told me about Gabe before you said you loved me. But not trusting me to make decisions about our future?Yourfuture? That was more than fucking fair. Please don’t make any more choices you’ll regret for me. I won’t survive it. I’d rather live off a hundred video calls than think I was anything like…them.”
“Are you done?”
“I—yes.” And maybe I fucked it all up, but it feels weirdly liberating, coming clean. Letting myself fall without any expectation that he’ll catch me, even though he’s right here.
“Okay, good. Thank you for saying all of that, baby, but it’s bullshit.”
I start to shake my head, but he slides from the bed to straddle my lap and tilts my face to look at him, fingers laced behind my neck and thumbs pressed to my galloping pulse.
