Page 86 of Inevitable
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. He trailed a finger along my jaw, and I broke. A tear slipped out, gliding down my cheek. This was a mistake. This wasn’t closure; it was torture.
I opened my eyes, blinking up at him. “I can’t keep serving myself up to you on a platter. I just—” My chest ached, and I needed space. “I can’t.” I shook my head and ducked beneath his arm.
My legs were shaky, but I was determined to put some distance between us. If only he could let go of the fact that I was twenty years younger and his best friend’s daughter, we could be amazing. He knew it just as well as I did, but instead, he continued to fight it.
I made it to the door before he wrapped his arms around me, holding me to his chest. I both loved and hated his attention. I craved it like a drug, but I didn’t want to crave it. Didn’t want to crave him.
“Don’t cry, Sumner.Please.” He brushed my hair over my shoulder, pressing kisses to my collarbone.
My body quivered from his touch, and my heart…my heart was weak. If I was going to survive, it was up to my head. Because my body and my heart would give in to this man every time.
“This is breaking me.” My voice cracked. I heaved a breath, forcing out the words. Admitting it aloud was akin to ripping my heart out.
He spun me to face him, caging me against the door. His hips pressed against mine. “Believe it or not, it’s breaking me too. But I can’t throw away a thirty-year friendship. Your dad—”
I pressed my hands to the door, anger coursing through my veins. “Should have no say in this.”
His nostrils flared. “You’re his daughter, his only child. I’m his best friend. If he had any idea…”
“Give him time,” I said. “Eventually, he’ll accept the fact that we’re together.”
I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I had faith that it would work out. If only Jonathan could too.
He shook his head, resignation marring his features. “Even if I were willing to sacrifice my relationship with him, I’m not willing to sacrifice yours.”
“He’s my father. He loves me unconditionally. He…” I swallowed down a lump. “You’re the man I love. Surely he’ll understand that.”
He clenched his jaw but didn’t otherwise respond to my declaration. He had to have known. How could he not know that I loved him? Desperately so. The past week apart had only crystallized my feelings—I loved him.
When I realized he wasn’t going to budge, I sniffed and lifted my chin. I was done. I’d laid all my cards on the table, and it was time to admit defeat.
I yanked the door open, the blue sky and cheerful sun mocking me. My chest felt tight, as if my ribs might crack open and let my heart bleed out. At least, if there was anything still left in my chest. But it was too late.
I barely made it to the car before I dissolved into sobs, my entire body aching with yearning. I screamed, pouring every ounce of anger, of hurt, of longing into the discordant sound. I’d never experienced pain like this. Never felt so helpless, not even when I’d thought the plane was going to crash.
But with the death of the scream came a release, a wave of calm—or maybe just exhaustion—washing over me. And with that, some much-needed clarity. I couldn’t keep doing this to myself. It was time to move on. So, with a heavy sigh, I restarted the car and drove away, leaving Jonathan in my rearview mirror.
* * *
Weeks passed,and I heard nothing from Jonathan. Not that I’d expected to. Still, a small—foolish—part of me held out hope.
I was headed back from campus when my phone rang, my dad’s name flashing across the screen. I clenched my jaw, anger coursing through my veins. This was all his fault.
I knew I was being irrational, but it was easier to blame my dad than Jonathan. He was the one who’d made it impossible for us to be together, even if I knew that wasn’t entirely true. Still, I’d been ignoring his calls, only responding to texts and pretending to be too busy to talk.
According to Piper, I was moving through the stages of grief. Apparently, I’d gone from the denial phase to anger.Whatever.
“Hey, Dad,” I answered, knowing I couldn’t avoid him forever.
“Hey, kiddo. I’m glad you answered. I thought I was going to have to send out the National Guard.”
“Ha-ha.” I laughed. “Very funny.”
“You okay? You sound…off.”
“I’m just tired,” I said, glancing both ways before crossing the street.
It was the truth. Since the move and starting grad school, I’d barely slept. When I wasn’t studying, I toiled away on my business plan. I’d also continued my journey of minimalism, and some of it became a game of sorts. My latest exercise—seeing how little stuff I could live with. It was a good distraction, even if it felt hollow.
