Page 49 of Misadventures in Blue
I can’t lie to her.
“And you’re a hero, Jace,” she adds, blinking fast at the ceiling. “You’re a good cop. We need more of those. I need more of those, because I’m not planning on giving up this job either, and I want cops like you by my side. I just can’t love them.”
“It’s too late for that,” I say roughly. “You already do.”
She finally meets my eyes, and what I see there shreds me. Those aren’t the eyes of someone about to fall on a sword—they are the eyes of someone who’s already fallen.
“I love you enough to know that I’ll ruin your life,” she says in a broken voice. “Thirteen years is too big of a hurdle. You might think it’s not now, but what about in twenty years? When I’m close to sixty and you’re still in your forties? When you’ve felt forced into deciding whether or not to have children because it’s not going to be possible for me to do it much longer? You deserve to spend your years free of all that. Free of responsibility until you choose it.”
“I’m choosing it now,” I rumble, trying to pull closer and feeling the IV in my hand protest. “Why is that so hard to believe? I don’t want to spend those years being ‘free.’ I don’t want to spend any years without you at all.”
“It’s been three weeks,” she says. “It all feels real now, but it’s not, Jace. It can’t be.”
“It is.”
Goddammit, it is.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t let you go sooner,” she whispers. “It was selfish of me to wait, to want to be with you one last time…”
She takes a step back, and I know if she walks out that door, I’ll lose her forever. It really will be the end. I make to yank off the monitor wires, and her eyes flare in panic.
“Stop it,” she pleads, and I don’t care. I’m not letting her leave. I’m not letting her finish us when I know she loves me, when I love her, when she’s mine.
I tear them off my chest, not even feeling the sting, and then I start on my IV, trying to peel back the clear bandage they put on top.
“Stop it,” she says more desperately now, and then, “I didn’t want to say the real reason I need to leave.” These last words come out in a rush.
“And what’s that?” I say, looking up with a scowl.
She bites her lip, blinks twice, and then says, “You’re not enough for me, Jace.”
It takes a minute for her words to truly register, for their meaning to unfold in my mind. And when they do, I freeze. “I’m sorry?”
“I meant what I said about everything else,” she explains, “but the real reason we can’t be together is that we just don’t fit. I’m sorry. I don’t make the rules about these things, but there it is. You’re too young, too coarse. Too reckless.”
Her words hurt worse than that fucking bullet ever did, digging into the same fear that plagued me watching her question Gia through the window.
She’s too good for me.
“Reckless,” I echo. “I thought you said I was a hero.”
“It’s a kind word for a stupid waste,” she snaps. “If you’re that careless with your own life, h
ow the hell can I trust you with my heart?”
Behind me, the heart monitor is making all the noises I can’t seem to.
“I could never spend the rest of my life with you,” she says coolly. “And now that you’re well, I can tell you.”
“Cat…baby. Please.”
She takes in a sharp breath at the endearment, and I’m not sure what I see on her face. Confusion? Cruelty? Regret?
Pain?
But it disappears in an instant, leaving only the familiar face of the Ice Queen behind.
“Goodbye, Jace,” she says and starts for the door. “I’m looking forward to your return to duty.”
