Page 39 of Unstoppable Love

Her hands went to my chest again, and this time when she pushed, I stepped back. I pleaded with her with my eyes to understand.

“You loved me,” she whispered and jumped off the kitchen counter.

“For years before then, but I couldn’t move on it then, not when we were young, not when?—”

“Shut up.” Her hand came up between us, she held it there while she stepped back. “You loved me.”

“I did.” A small kernel of hope grew in my chest. She wouldn’t hate me. She’d understand. “I do.”

Tears were still running down her cheeks, but she’d understand. She’d have to.

“You loved me, and you took my virginity, and the next morning, you looked right through me and treated me like I was nothing. No one, and now you think an explanation is acceptable?”

“I know. I know that hurt, and I shouldn’t have done it. I panicked. Isaiah was standing there, and you had just crawled out of my bed, and I couldn’t… I fucked up. I knew it then.”

I was losing her. It was stamped all over her face, not only the pain I’d caused for so many years, but everything I’d done to make it worse.

And when she straightened her back and stepped away from me, the floor beneath my feet shifted. Her eyes narrowed, and a tear dropped down her cheek.

“Fuck you, Cameron Kelley.”

“Listen. I know you’re?—”

That hand was still up, and it fell to her thigh with a slap that made me jolt as she took another step back. “What? Upset? You know I’m upset? Or hurt? Or mad? You’re goddamn right I’m all of those things, Cam, because for my entire life, you’ve been the only man I ever wanted, and stupid me, even after that night, I thought there was a chance I could get you to see me as something else besides Isaiah’s sister, because you’d been drunk. I’d taken advantage. I’d gone into your room for my own motives, and that was because I’d been scared and realized something that was precious to me could be taken, so I wanted to give it to someone who mattered, and then you forgot. I gave you something of me. Not my body. But me. And you fucking forgot, but you didn’t. You knew.”

She twisted, clawed at her scalp with her hands, and was shaking her head. Her entire body trembled, and I was paralyzed. “God. It was one thing to know you’d forgotten. That hurt enough, but to hear that you didn’t? To know you listened to Grams on what was best for me instead of talking to me? You don’t love me. I’m something you’ve enjoyed toying with, showing up in my space even when you knew it hurt me, and you can’t say you didn’t know that, and you knew exactly why you were hurting me. That’s not love. I don’t know what that is, but it’s not love.”

“I know I fucked up. I know it, Ava. But please, let me?—”

“Get out. This is… of all the fucking things. Of all the fucking times for this? You’ve had years to tell me the truth. And now, now what? Now that I’m finally moving on, living my own life instead of waiting to be invited to be a part of yours, now is when you open up? Now, when I’m finally working on my dream?”

Tears poured down her cheeks, and tears grew in my own eyes. She had it wrong. Well, mostly right, but also, she was so dead wrong.

“I wasn’t ready,” I admitted.

She whipped around, hair flying behind her. The heat in her stare was enough to burn me to the ground. “Then you didn’t love me. Because if you had loved me, you wouldn’t have needed to become ready to love me properly or at least be kind to me.”

“And when I was ready, you had Kip.” She was with him for three years. There was never an indication she wanted that from me. Not then. “I’d thought you were happy.”

She barked out a cold laugh before her hands curled into tightly balled fists at her side. She leaned in a hairsbreadth closer. “Get the fuck out of my house and stay the hell out of my life.”

“Ava—”

“Now!” She screamed so loudly the chandelier behind her shook, and she stomped her feet. “Can’t you see you’re hurting me? You’re doing it all over again, and you’re so much more concerned about your side than you are of taking care of me. Get out of my fucking house and let me be!”

She crumbled to the floor. Her knees slapped the wood floor so hard she cried out in pain, and then she was a ball, head burrowed into her lap, and fuck.

I was killing her, and I knew it, and I knew she’d hate me more for it, but I didn’t leave. I went straight to her.

I picked her up, and she was crying so hard, so upset and out of it, she didn’t fight me. Thank Christ.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ava.” I kissed the back of her head, carried her through her house, and quickly found her room. Thank God there was a bed in there.

As soon as her side touched the mattress, she rolled in the other direction. There was a throw blanket at the end of the bed. I grabbed it and draped it over her.

“I’m so sorry, Ava. So sorry for hurting you, but I do love you. And I know you want me out of your life, but I can’t make that promise.”

She was still crying, still sniffling.

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