Page 71 of Fauxmance in the City

“That’s not entirely true. I got my job back, but Gillian said you were never really fired because she was impressed by your loyalty.”

“She said that?”

“Yep.”

“Hmph.” He slides the letter I hold from my fingers and holds it up.

“Read it,” he says.

“I’m surprised you didn’t read it,” I say, stalling.

“It’s why I came here. When I saw it peeking out from under the bed, I almost did. I came straight here before my willpower broke.”

“Why did you want to read it so badly?” I ask, the air coming out of my chest in quick bursts.

“To understand why you’ve been hellbent on pushing me away for the past four years.”

“You know why,” I whisper, tapping the tip of the envelope, not meeting his gaze.

“Say it.”

I wrap my arms around my ribs, protecting my heart. “I was afraid you’d break my heart.”

“I never had your heart.” His voice drops, and he wears the most heart-wrenching expression.

I tuck my chin, and shake my head. I keep shaking it, tears dripping, unable to speak. Sam’s hand smooths over my right hip and around my lower back, tugging me against his chest.

“What are you scared of?” he asks, his breath moistening behind my ear.

“You.” My palms press against his solid shoulders, fisting the fabric of his thin sweater. “I’m afraid if I cast my heart to you, you’ll rip it off the line, leaving me gasping for your love while I die a slow death.”

“Fuck, baby.” Sam holds my chin between two fingers and lifts it. “That’s harsh.”

“No, that’s love, Sam.” I shove him, and he stumbles backward.

I grab the letter and slice it open with my nail, a desperate desire to know what it says overtaking me. “I trusted a man once. He promised me forever, and then he cut me from my groin to my heart.”

I lift the letter, but I can’t read it with Sam standing in front of me.

“Go,” I tell him.

“This isn’t me leaving.” Sam walks to the front door. “This is me giving you the space to heal.”

The door clicks shut, and I slump to the ground, the letter hot in my hand.

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