Page 134 of Catching Sparks

“Why wouldn’t you?”

He sets his lips against my cheek and holds them there as he says, “Can’t say that I think I’ll be feeling up to working tomorrow.”

“I’ve already cancelled pole for tomorrow,” I admit.

“You’re going to be fine, Poppy. You don’t need me.”

My laugh is hollowed and forced. “You’re wrong.”

“I’m not.” He hooks a finger beneath my chin and tries to turn my head, but I pull against him, refusing to look at him. “Poppy. Look at me.”

“I can’t,” I croak, staring past Honey and Kip at the guest house in the distance. A place I’ve associated as my home, not because of its steady walls but because of the man who lives inside them.

Garrison shifts, and I’m unable to fight against him this time as he leans around me and cups my face in both of his hands. He’s still gentle as he turns my head, and maybe that’s why I stop fighting.

The pain he’s feeling is reflected in his eyes as they boldly hold mine. He’s unafraid to show me that he’s struggling just as hard as I am, and when the first of my tears escapes, he’s quick to swipe it away.

“Talk to me. Please,” he begs, his voice breaking.

“I can’t. Not without asking you to stay.”

I turn in his arms and settle on my knees, staring into the full expanse of his face, memorizing every inch. He sets his forehead against mine. The exhale that escapes his lips speaks a million silent words that he’ll never say out loud.

“You don’t want me to stay. Not really. It wouldn’t work. I’ve grown to love this place, but I’d never survive here.”

One blink, and my cheeks are streaked with tears that won’t stop falling. “Why can’t you try? I can’t—I can’t let you go. I don’t know how. I don’t know what to do or think or—fuck, I can’t even breathe.” Each word is another slice of a blade up my throat.

He winces, his eyebrows knitting together. “Yes you can, Poppy. You can breathe. With me, yeah?” Taking my hand in his, he uncurls my fingers and lays them flat over his chest, where his heart rests beneath. “You’re just fine. I’m not worth your pain. You’re too fucking good for me. This town would suffocate me. You’d be the only reason to fight for air.”

“No, I’m not. You’re worth all of it,” I argue, shaking my head furiously. “I’d come with you, then. Leave tomorrow and start a new life with you in Toronto if it meant we could stay together.”

The truth of my words doesn’t have a chance to settle in my mind. I don’t give it a chance to because if I do, I’ll cry harder.

“You don’t mean that. Your home is here. With your family and friends and your career. Don’t give that up for me. I won’t allow you to.”

I do mean it. I really fucking do. But I leave it.

“Then we’ll do long distance.”

He sniffs, tearing his eyes from mine. His face blurs behind the wall of tears in my eyes.

“You’re not a woman who settles for long distance. It wouldn’t be fair to you.” His refusal leaves my chest cavity bleeding. He palms my back, urging me closer until there’s no space between our bodies. “I wouldn’t be able to give you what you deserved from Toronto.”

“Why do you get to decide what I deserve?”

“Because I love you, Poppy. And I won’t be able to live with myself knowing that you aren’t receiving the care you deserve. It would kill me to be the one responsible for it,” he says, his jaw tight. “You deserve it all. The Friday nights spent dancing at Peakside, the early morning horseback rides, and Wednesday brunches with your family. This is where you will stay and where I’ll dream of every night once I’m no longer here. It’s the only way for me to know you’re happy and taken care of.”

A sob racks through me before I throw my arms around him and bury my face in his neck. It’s too much. Every bit of it is too much. I’m being severed in two, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Bleeding out with no idea which wound to apply pressure to.

“I’m not happy, though, Garrison. Everything was perfect. Why did you have to tell me you love me now?”

He cups the back of my head, splaying his fingers to hold as much of it as possible. I bite my tongue, fighting back more sobs.

“Because you deserved to know how I felt before I left. I don’t want you to think anything other than that you were the first woman I have ever fallen in love with and that you changed my life. When my dad sent me here, I thought nothing could have been worse than having to spend two months in this do-nothing town with people who hated me. But you, Poppy?” He blows out a breath that travels over my ear. “You made this the most incredible two months of my life. I didn’t deserve it, I still don’t, but I don’t care.”

“I love you too, Garrison Beckett,” I whisper into his skin, the words truer than any I’ve ever spoken. “Thank you for making me feel alive.”

I don’t want to think about how messy my face must look as he guides my face from his throat. Our eyes catch and hold, both of us finding peace in our stare. The first brush of his lips to mine is soft, testing. The second comes a breath later, once I don’t pull away.

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