Page 14 of When We Were Young

“I’m so sorry,” I say.

She turns to look at me, and my chest feels fluttery.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, and I think of how well Emma’s fit in mine. My heart squeezes and I rub my ear. “Breaking up with you was the worst thing I ever did. And all those things afterwards.”

I grimace and look at her, see the hurt in her eyes. Hurt I never wanted to see. Not at all. Not again.

“Why?” she whispers, and it’s the question I’ve asked myself so many times since.

Why did I really do it?

Because Jared and my mates said I shouldn’t just be with one girl? Because university was a time for fun?

Because I was horny and there were girls who lived in my building who made eyes at me and it was easier just to go across to their rooms than traipse across half the city?

I stare at Emma, see the tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I—” I shake my head. “I want to explain it, have all these reasons, things I can say to make you understand. But I can’t make you understand, and there are no reasons. Not really. Just that I was a horrible person. And there are things I could make up, things I could say were the reasons why I did it—but it would just be lies, because I don’t know why I did it... All I know is it was the biggest mistake of my life, doing that to you.”

A tear rolls down her face, and I reach out to wipe it away. It’s instinct, and her skin feels soft, and she’s staring at me. Those crystal blue eyes so clear.

And it’s there—that feeling in me. The one I denied for so long, just pretended it wasn’t there, because I was scared.

“Emma, you still mean a lot to me. An awful lot.” The words rush out of me, a huge expulsion of feeling and truth.

And it’s good to say it. It really is. But I need to say more. Need to tell her I love her and—

Anger flashes in her eyes, and she takes a step toward the door.

“Emma, please.” My voice cracks, and I curse under my breath before returning my gaze to her. I have to get her to understand. “I was a fool, I really was. But I need you.”

She glares at me. “Eight years have passed, Oscar.Eight years. You’re just saying this because you’re lonely.”

Lonely? She thinks this is whatthisis?

“No. I’m saying it because it’s true—and you’re here. This means something.” My voice shakes. “I can tell. We belong together.”

She gulps, and tears run down her face. “No, everything that’s happened... Oscar, too much has happened, and I don’t know if we can...”

No. No. No! This isn’t how this is supposed to go! And the voice in my head is screaming at me to tell her that I love her—only she’s not going to believe me if she thinks I’m desperate.

“Please.” I have to make her know I won’t hurt her again and I have to make her understand my love is real, is there. “Let me prove this to you.”

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