Page 200 of Holding On To Good

Before he changed everything between them again.

This time, for good.

“Willow—”

“We need some time,” she told him as she headed toward the door, which seemed miles and miles away instead of twenty feet. Or maybe it was just that her entire body hurt, her legs heavy. Her muscles so tight each step taking her away from him torture. “Some space.”

“Willow—”

“So I’m taking the week off work,” she continued, words and pace brisk as she sensed him behind her. She’d planned on only taking Friday off to help with Lily’s wedding next weekend, but the extra days would be good for both her and Urban. It’d give them time to think. To process. Time to get acclimated to yet another new normal.

Time to accept what’d happened between them is over and move on.

Taking his silence as agreement if not that acceptance she’d told him he had to give her, she lunged for the door. But he was right on her heels and when she yanked it open, he pressed his naked chest along her back, settled his hand above her head and shutting it.

In the hall, Bella whined, either at having the door once again closed on her or because she sensed the tension between the humans. In the bedroom, it was all Willow could do not to join her.

Urban was solid and warm behind her and so close, she could feel the heavy thumping of his heart. Felt the play and shift of his muscles as he edged closer. Inhaled his scent with every breath.

It took all she had not to lean back and let that strength, that heat, seep into her bones.

Took all she had and more not to turn and wrap her arms around him.

But if she did, she might never let go.

He ducked his head, his beard scraping along her jaw. “Willow,” he murmured near her ear, his free hand sliding around her to cup her chin. Gently turned her to face him and searched her gaze, nerves evident in the trembling of his fingertips on her jaw. Determination clear in his eyes. “I love you. I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen years old.”

A surge of emotion filled her chest, but it wasn’t soft and sweet and warm, the way it should’ve been when the man you’ve loved for half your life admitted he felt the same way. It was hot and throbbing and painful.

“That,” she said, her voice low and hard, “is such bullshit.”

His hand dropping from her chin, he took a big step back. “Excuse me?”

She whirled to face him, all the resentment, all the jealousy and anger and the hurt of the past sixteen years pulsing inside of her. “I said. That. Is. Bull. Shit. All this time you’ve never, not once shown any interest in being with me. Not since that night on my porch when we were kids. The only reason any of this even happened was because I kissed you.”

He stepped forward. “That’s not true.”

“You asked another woman to marry you,” she reminded him in a heartbroken whisper. Just remembering that awful day when Urban had come to her, told her that he and Miranda were engaged, that he was going to spend the rest of his life with her, had Willow’s tears returning with a vengeance. “If Miranda hadn’t broken things off, you’d be married to her right now, living in this house with your two point five kids. So don’t you dare tell me you’ve been in love with me all these years.”

His eyebrows drew together. “You made me promise not to cross that line again.”

Holding his gaze, letting her tears fall freely, she nodded. “I asked because I needed to keep you in my life. And you kept it for the same reason. This” —she gestured between them— “wasn’t real. We aren’t victims of bad timing, we’re a product of the choices we’ve made. We’re not meant to be anything other than friends. If we were,” she added quietly, “we would have happened a long time ago.”

We’re not meant to be anything other than friends.

Urban rubbed a hand over the sudden, vicious ache in his chest.

Willow’s words had him reeling. Her tears tore him apart. But it was her easy dismissal of what they could be that destroyed him.

And killed any hope he might have of making this right.

It didn’t matter if he somehow managed to find the right words. Nothing he said would change her mind. Nothing he did would be enough.

His plans, what he wanted, didn’t matter.

It was his life, but his choices were being taken away from him.

Again.

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