Page 70 of Closer

“It can work. We can make it work.” His voice is desperate, pleading.

“Can we? Really?” My heart twists. “All we do is hurt each other. Over and over again. You left me in that library like—” I bite back a sob. “You left me in that library like I was nothing. Like what we had meant nothing.”

He reaches for me, but I recoil, shaking my head. “No. The worst part is that I forgave you for that a long time ago. What I can’t forgive, what I’ll never understand, is why you still can’t trust me. Why you’re still hung up on the thing with Jason.”

His voice is laced with bitterness. “The engagement you kept from me, you mean.”

“It was never real!” The words tumble out, my voice rising. “I didn’t cheat on you. I never wanted to marry him, for God’s sake! Only after college did our families arrange it, that whole stupid thing, because I couldn’t trust my own judgment anymore. Because nobody compared to you.” I take a shaky breath, my eyes pleading. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I thought it didn’t matter.”

“It wasn’t just that.” He averts his eyes. “You spied on me. For your uncle. How was I supposed to trust you after that?”

My mouth falls open. “What are you talking about? I never spied on you. Why would I do something like that?” Confusion and hurt swirl inside me. “How could you even think that?”

“Don’t.” His voice comes out in a dark, threatening murmur. “Don’t lie to me, Lil. Not about this.”

“I’m not lying. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” My voice cracks, the weight of his accusation crushing me. “I would never betray you like that. Never.”

He studies me.

“Why are you doing this?” Tears escape, quietly sliding down my face. “Why now, after all this time?”

He brushes them away. “Because I never stopped needing you. And I don’t think I ever will.”

“But you will never trust me, either. How is this supposed to work?”

“I want to trust you. I do. But every time I try, something happens that makes me question everything. I let my own insecurities get the best of me. It’s no excuse. I should have trusted you. I do trust you.” His thumb strokes my cheek, a gesture so tender it almost breaks me. “And I’m not letting you go. I made that mistake too many times.”

He’s the best and the worst thing that happened to me. This man, with his infuriating smirk and those damn eyes that see right through me, he’s been my undoing since the moment I found rescue in his room.

And yet, I can’t imagine my life without him. Even when we’re apart, he’s there, under my skin, in my thoughts, in my stupid dreams. It’s like he’s a part of me, as vital as the air I breathe. He’s the safety I always longed for. With him, the monsters are gone.

But it’s not enough, is it? This twisted dance we do, the push and pull, the lies and the half-truths. We’re poison to each other, a beautiful, toxic poison.

I step back, his hand dropping to his side. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? We’re stuck in this endless cycle of hurting each other because we can’t let go. We’re toxic. Don’t you see that?”

He tenses. “So what do we do? Walk away? Pretend like this thing between us doesn’t exist?”

I want to trust him, to believe that this time will be different. That he’s changed, that we’ve both changed. How many times have I told myself that lie? How many times have I let him back in, only to have my heart shattered all over again? I can’t trust my own judgment anymore, not when it comes to him.

“Yes.” My voice cracks. “In the end, pretending is the thing we’re best at, right?”

“Lil, please. Don’t do this.” He reaches for me again, but I step out of his grasp. “I’m sorry. For everything. For leaving you then. For not trusting you. For the past, for pushing you away—all of it. I am an idiot… If you give me another chance, I swear I’ll spend my life making it up to you.”

“I want to believe you so badly.” I hiccup. “I can’t keep loving you. It’s killing me.”

He looks at me like I reached into his chest and ripped his heart out with my bare hands. And God, seeing that devastation on his face, it’s like I did it to myself.

A sudden commotion from inside snaps my head towards the ballroom.

Shit, Gemma.

“The police are here to arrest Oliver,” Sebastian says.

I blink at him. “Did you arrange this?”

“Elijah did. We helped him.”

Relief floods through me. Thank God. Gemma will finally be free. I move towards the door, but Sebastian’s hand on my arm stops me.

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