Page 85 of Give Me Redemption

He told me he loves me. God, doesn’t he know how bad that hurts?

All those things he said to me. I feel them.

But we can’t be together. We can’t.

It’s just not in the cards for us.

He’s going to freeze in there, and I don’t know what to do.

He said he was done.

This is what I wanted, right?

I’m just going to have to go to Davy and tell him Jace isn’t talking. That we’ll have to figure out another way.

I’m breaking.

I sit down and rub my face. Tears blur my vision as my hearts aches so badly, I feel like I’m dying.

And I know tonight I won’t be sleeping.

But what’s new?

Chapter Thirty-Four

Jace

The ride home is awful. We’re not speaking, both in our own worlds as I drive us through the thick snow. I didn’t sleep a wink last night. I just lay there wondering where I went wrong. I knew when she opened my door to let some heat in, and I wanted to tell her to come over there, that I was sorry. I took things too far when she clearly wasn’t ready.

God, listen to me.

I’m pathetic as fuck.

Where is Jace, and who is this man I’ve become?

I can’t reach her, and it kills me. I’ve been nothing but open with her, but she refuses to let me in. It hurts, man. It fucking hurts.

I get why Bryce has always fought this shit.

Because it sucks when it’s over.

I guess this is over my head. I don’t know. I would have done anything for Dalton, though. I would have changed who I was.

I turn my blinker on and pull into her apartment. I park the truck, and we both sit quietly, me begging her to say something because I’m letting go and I don’t want to. The snow continues to fall around us, the wind wispy and bitter cold.

Say something, Dalton. Change this,I beg.

But she doesn’t.

She reaches over and opens her door before climbing out, and my heart is falling. I reach up, gripping my steering wheel, my jaw clenched, my chest in agony.

I try to think of something to say to stop this from happening, but I’ve already tried everything.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t enough,” I say, swallowing my pride. I look over at her standing outside the door. Her face shows nothing but sorrow, and I don’t understand it.

It doesn’t have to be this way.

Why can’t she see that?

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