Page 73 of Closer

“You’re staring.” Elijah appears at my side.

I drag my gaze away. “Appreciating the view. Come to berate me?”

“No. I’ve come to tell you to stop being such a coward and go fix this. Your sister’s words.”

“What does it matter now?” The words come out more bitter than intended, frustration simmering beneath my skin. “She hates me, and she’s better off without me.”

“Are you really that blind?” Connor snorts. “She’s never getting over you, no matter how much she wants to pretend otherwise.”

“That’s the problem with you two.” Elijah clasps my shoulder. “I have to go. Keep this fucker in line.”

I snort, downing the rest of my drink. “I won’t be a problem.” All I want to do is to take Lil in my arms, beg her forgiveness, and have her look at me the way she once did, with love and trust instead of sorrow.

But today is not the day. I don’t want to be the reason that smile disappears again. I want her to be happy.

Even if that means without me.

The dinner’s winding down, guests slowly disperse from the tables, and I sink back in my chair, nursing my—hell, I’ve lost count of how many drinks I’ve had. Not nearly enough to be drunk and numb the ache in my chest every time my gaze drifts to Lil.

Connor’s on the dance floor with Mary, and Brandon’s making his move on Naomi, and from the way she’s smiling, I’d say he’s doing a good job.

And here I am, alone at the table, watching the woman I love dance with every-fucking-body but me.

“Why aren’t you out there?” My mother’s voice startles me out of my self-pity party. She slides into the seat next to me, her eyes soft with concern.

I shrug, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “Not in the mood.”

“She really grew into a beautiful woman.”

“I know.” Wait. I turn to mymother.

“You’re my son.” She pinches my cheek. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“It feels like yesterday that I saw Lilian play in the garden with her brothers. She’s so full of life.” Her voice turns nostalgic. “Just like her mother was.”

“What happened back then?”

“That’s a long story, maybe another time.” She waves a dismissive hand. “What’s important is I regret it. I should have done more. But now it’s too late. Don’t let it be too late for you two. I know you will work it out.”

I run a hand through my hair, frustration mounting. “I fucked up, okay? Several times and I’m trying to make it right, but—She doesn’t want me. I hurt her too much.”

“Are you?” She tilts her head, studying me. “Or are you trying to ease your own guilt?”

Fuck, maybe she’s right. Maybe I am being selfish, trying to alleviate my own conscience.

“If you truly want to make things right, you need to put her needs first. Show her that you’ve changed and that you’re worthy of her trust.”

“And how do I do that?”

“Start by being her friend. Be there for her without any expectations. Show her that you care about her happiness, even if it doesn’t include you.”

“So she’s better off without me. Great.”

“Oh, my sweet boy.” She squeezes my shoulder. “Don’t you see? She’s only better off without you if you continue to be the man who hurts her. But if you become the man she deserves? The man I know you can be. Then there’s no one better for her than you.”

“Dad won’t approve.”

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