His arm rests against the wall behind me, framing me in.
“I’m sorry, Amy. You don’t know how much I’ve regretted that day. You were everything to me. All I wanted was for you to have everything you dreamed of, and I was terrified of holding you back from that. I know I hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
I raise my gaze to meet his. It’s burning with desire, with pain, with remorse.
“I don’t know if sorry is enough for this, Dylan. I need time and space.”
He did it for me so I could pursue my dreams. But at what cost? Even if I forgive him wholeheartedly, what’s to say that he’s learned his lesson? The next time that we have to face something difficult, will he be there to stand by me? Or will he go off and orchestrate the next painful breakup and keep me in the dark?
Dylan’s gaze falls. “All right.” He takes a step back, and I miss his nearness.
Deep breaths. One kiss and a few sweet words don’t mean I should be doodling his name in my notebook.
As we retreat to our respective sides of the bed, I rebuild the pillow wall. I need every bit of protection it can offer, at least for now.
With my wall complete, I grab my things and head for the bathroom.
Despite everything in my body saying it doesn’t matter, the fact he didn’t ever touch Clara makes me smile.
She never had him. She was never anything to him. We were everything to one another. Just not anymore. Can I forgive him? Has he changed at all? Or has being forced into the same room together made me weak?
***
My head hurts in the morning, and I turn over with a groan. We’ve got to be at the library for the fundraiser activities. Dylan is in charge of finances, and from what I can tell, it’s going well.
That’s what I need to focus on. I need to remember why we’re here. I throw my feet over the bed and my eyes land on a patch of red hanging over the chair by the bathroom.
It’s the red sweater that I pointed out when I was walking by one of the shops on Main Street before Clara showed up. I said it was cute. Dylan laughed and said that it was a granny sweater but that maybe I could pull it off.
It’s a simple red knit with white flowers across the collar. A sticky note is pinned to the front.
I’m not ready to give you up.
-D
My heart races, thundering against my rib cage. He gave me up easily enough eight years ago. He let a misunderstanding tear my heart to shreds. Do I trust him now? I take the sweater in my hands, running my fingers across the soft fabric.
I look back at the bed reluctantly. I can’t see over the pillow wall since I’ve restructured it. Is he on the other side, or did he leave early? He must have gotten up early to put the note there.
Best not to be fooled by these fluttery feelings. We’re pretending to be a couple. That’s all that this is. He doesn’t want things to be awkward and tense between us for the last few days. It’s not like he’s officially asked me for a second chance.
I frown. I’m overthinking it. A sweater and a note means nothing. There’s too much between us … and yet, I tuck the sweater into my suitcase, folding it gently. I need to distract myself from Dylan, and a great way to do that is to find my brother and give him a proper talk about what he did to me eight years ago. This should be fun.
Chapter 20
Dylan
I should’ve told her ages ago. All these years, and I waited until now? Maybe if I’d just manned up and told her everything back then, we wouldn’t be walking around on eggshells now. At least she’d have known my side of things. Instead, I blew it. Again.
Rounding the corner of the library hallway, someone runs smack into my chest. It’s Amy. She takes a couple of wobbly steps back, looking me up and down, that same cold chill in her gaze as the day before. My confession doesn’t seem to have done much.
“Dylan.”
“Amy.” I flash her a grin, hoping it’ll chip away at that wall she’s building. Because she’s looking at me like I’m a stranger she’d rather avoid. Ouch.
“Fine. The silent auction is all setup, and I just finished my last art class.” She smiles, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of happiness in her eyes before she stomps it down. “How about you?”
“Same. I just collected the rest of the donations. We’re close to the target amount for the fundraiser, so with the silent auction, we should be past our target.”