Page 13 of It's Always Us

“Please tell me,” I beg. “I have to know. I can’t spend the rest of my life wondering.”

Her eyes remain on the floor. Her hand pushes the loose hair out of her face, but it falls right back. “There’s nothing left for you here.”

It comes out smooth and cool, a sledgehammer, straight to my gut. I suck in air.

Shit. No. No. No. This can’t be happening.He said this wouldn’t be easy.

I force myself taller, remembering how to fight. “If I believed that, I wouldn’t be here. I think exactly everything I need is right here.”

I take a huge risk and wrap my hands gently around her arms, easing her closer. I use one finger to tip her chin up, forcing her to look at me.

Her eyes finally meet mine. “I’ve missed you every single day.”

She pushes me away, taking a step back, her chin returning to her chest. “We didn’t fit then, and we don’t fit now. We’re different people, and we don’t belong together.”

“Liar,” I say, grabbing her attention. Her wide eyes flick between mine. “There have never been two people who belong together more than you and me. I don’t know who or what made you believe differently, but it’s bullshit. No one knows you better than I do. I don’t care how many years have passed. I still know exactly who you are.”

I take a desperate step closer, needing to close a bit of the space between us. “I knew you’d be here tonight. I knew it. I know those boots on your feet are the same brand, maybe even the exact same pair you hadon when I kissed you the very last time, and I know they’re a size seven and a half. I know you listen to this horrible, depressing country music because it drives your hard-ass grandfather crazy, and somewhere along the way, you learned to like it.”

I take another step closer, her body so close to mine, and she watches my evey move. I take one of her hands, holding it. At first, it’s stiff, but it quickly goes limp as I surround hers in mine. I want to take it and pull her away with me, but I can’t.

I breathe her in. Her scent, one I could never forget, is exactly the same. I push a strand of loose hair behind her ear, and she watches every move. “I know anything besides having your hair down and loose gives you a headache.”

I lift her hand. My thumb traces a path across her palm. “One of my favorite things was seeing the grease and dirt left behind from all your hard work because it makes you so damn happy.”

“I’m not that girl anymore. She’s gone.” There’s a slight quiver in her voice I don’t miss.

I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her body flush with mine. Her quiet, stubborn ass only releases the tiniest gasp, but everything in me tells me she feels it, too.

I stare into her eyes, trying to ignore the fear filling every pore throughout my entire body. “I don’t believe that. I will never believe that.”

She relaxes against me, her arms between us, and I know. I know somewhere in there she’s here with me.

I lean just a little, my mouth close to her ear. “I don’t care what’s happened or how long it’s been, but I beg you not to go through with this wedding unless it’s really and truly everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Her hands slide down my biceps and rest on my forearms. I’ve never hated a shirt to this extreme in my life.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I whisper.

Her hands drop to her sides. “It’s time for you to go now.”

My heart hits the stained concrete floor. I don’t release her. I can’t. “Don’t do this, please. I don’t know what happened, but I know I wasn’t wrong about what we had. It’s once in a lifetime, Lex.”

I don’t even care how pathetic I sound. I can’t have been wrong.

“Stop.” She shoves me away this time and retreats, putting space between us. “You need to go.” Her chest moves in and out quickly.

Her dim eyes find mine, and pain spears through my chest, wanting to know where the girl I love has gone, but I know pushing her won’t do any good.

I swallow, trying to pull forth my last shred of dignity and ounce of hope—the very last bit.

I take a step toward the workbench. Each inch of distance is like peeling a Band-Aid off a festering wound. “I’ll go, but I’m never giving up. You and me, it’s the only thing that makes sense.” Even as I say it, the doom of this being the end begins to steamroll my fear.

I pull an invoice sheet from the counter and a pen. “Here is my phone number. After tonight, I have to be in Vegas for a game.” I set the pen on the paper, turning back to her. “I will do anything you ask me to, but I won’t give up. Not until you tell me straight up that you never loved me.”

I give her a chance, searching her eyes long and hard. I suck my stomach in tight and wait for those words to kill what might be the only good left in me.

She only wraps her arms around herself, with what I think might be tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. I want to punch something.

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