Page 94 of Bossy Hero

“No, of course not. I want you toactuallybeokay with it.”

“You know I hate disappointing you, but that’s one thing I cannot give you. At a minimum, I don’t want to hide what we have. And you won’t even give me that.”

I roll my hands out, palms facing upward. “What’s the big deal? Everyone already knows.”

“No. They suspect it. That’s not the same thing. More importantly, you won’t let me come clean to Leo about us. You haven’t told Sammy either. Are you ashamed of me?”

“Alan, come on. You know I could never be?—”

He cuts me off. “You’re content playing this little game, but I want more. I’ll keep being patient because the alternative is shit, but don’t expect me to everbeokaywith it.”

If I’m playing a game, it’s unintentional.

At first, it was fun to keep everyone guessing. All theare they or aren’t theyquestions and glances were quite entertaining. Thrilling even. It made me feel young again.

More importantly, it maintained an emotional distance between Alan and me. A barricade around my heart.

He doesn’t deserve that. Why do I keep doing this to him?

The thought of living without him makes me want to curl into a ball and cry.

Somewhere during his pain-laden speech, my eyes closed and my shoulders slumped. My heart thuds wildly, clenching beneath my ribs.

When my eyes flutter open, he extends his hand toward me. It sits face up on the table between us.

It strikes me as an interesting metaphor for our situation. He’s always reaching out to me. Meanwhile, I’m always reluctant to accept whatever he offers.

But I can’t resist his touch for long, so I grant his unspoken request. His hand, calloused and weathered, dwarfs mine. A sense of contentment slowly creeps back into my soul with each tender caress of his thumb over my knuckles.

Three years and he’s never raised a hand to me. Never yelled or punched a hole through the wall. Never thrown anything at me. Never forced me to do anything I didn’t want to do. Never made me feel cheap or disposable.

And yet, I’m held back by a fear that he will one day.

After all, Travis never physically harmed me until after the vows were spoken.

By keeping our relationship a secret, I’m preventing the inevitable.

“Come here, babe,” he orders softly with a crook of his finger.

He scoots toward the middle of the booth. Unable to deny him, I do the same, meeting him halfway.

As soon as I’m within his reach, he wraps one big arm around me and cups my cheek tenderly with his free hand. “I’m sorry, Maddie. I told you I’d stop pressuring you, and that wasn’t my intention. It just hit me harder than normal tonight.”

“I’m sorry I’m not what you need.”

Whoa, horsey.Where didthatcome from?

I meant to apologize, tell him I understand, and assure him I’m not mad at his repeated broaching of this topic. After all, he’s entitled to his feelings.

Instead, what came out was a truth bomb I didn’t realize I’d been carrying.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have ordered the wine. But it’s as they say,in vino veritas—in wine, there is truth.

Tears pool, obscuring my vision, so I slam my eyes closed and try to gather my composure.

His grip on me tightens, and he rests his forehead against mine. “Easy, babe. It’s okay. You’re everything I need. Everything.”

I keep my eyes fastened shut, knowing if I open them, the tears will fall. Haven’t I already ruined this evening enough without making a blubbering spectacle of myself?

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