Page 65 of Buried Roots

“No.” I bite my lip. “Well, yes, and no.” I can’t tell him about what Kayla said to me in confidence. Anyway, it’s not about Kayla, so it’s useless to throw her under the bus. I stare in the distance as I try to form the right response, the rain still dripping off my face. “It’s more complicated than Dakota. I just… I couldn’t.”

His tense jaw ticks. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

I know he’s right, but it’s hard to give someone an answer to something when you don’t have it yourself. The real reason’s in my mind, swirling around—an amorphous thing haunting me. The answer finds its way to my lips, heating my cheeks as it goes. Finally, the words come out. “You know everything about me, but I don’t know much about you. You won’t tell me about your scar. You won’t tell me about the day that changed you forever. But Dakota. She knows everything.”

He swipes a muddy hand over his forehead. “Christ, Willow. I’ve never told anyone about that day. Despite therapy, I might add. I haven’t spoken about it since it happened.” He shakes his head. “The only people who know are those who were there.”

My tone softens along with my heart. “There’s something powerful about being with the people that were by your side during the toughest moments of your life.”

“Maybe there’s something to that. But Dakota doesn’t know me now. I’m not the same person I was then. Neither is she, honestly. But none of that matters.” He grabs my hand and pulls me in, desperation flickering in his eyes. “I wantyou.”

As always, his words do things to me: a thousand tugs of my heartstrings. A sweetening of the air I breathe. A crackle of electricity humming through me, and I don’t know what to do with it all. “I want you, too,” I whisper. “And you’re always here for me.” I look down, not able to meet his gaze when I say, “But it’s not enough.”

“Since when are all these feelings not enough?” His voice goes hoarse with emotion.

It triggers my own, and I have to fight back tears when I utter, “What if Dakota’s better for you in the long run, huh? What if I stop you from giving her a real chance?”

He lifts my chin with his finger, forcing me to meet his eyes again, which are shadowed with pain. “I won’t end up with her whether you’re here or not. She and I don’t fit, not anymore. She’s not who I think about. Dream about. Would give up anything for.”

Butterflies flit in my stomach, and I can’t let him have that effect on me, not now. “I just…” I trail off. Everything in my head sounds ridiculous, so I blurt out the truth. “I care too much. And I’m leaving.”

He shakes his head, saying nothing as he stares into the distance. Finally, he asks, “Why? You love it here.”

“I can’t stay.”

His lips form a hard line. “Why?”

“My business is in New York. It’s my home.” My words are clipped.

His eyes bulge and his tone turns incredulous when he says, “Are you listening to yourself? You’re mostly alone in New York. And your business could move here.” He raises his voice, impassioned. “You don’t get to pick who you love. I know you want all the control, but this doesn’t work like that.”

“I don’t want control.” I fold my arms again, and they’re so wet they slip apart. “That’s not it.” I know I’m lying, but just as much to myself as to Owen.

“Then what? Tell me. You owe me that.” He shoots me a glare, his eyes matching the stormy sky.

I’m struggling to answer him because I don’t know for sure, but there’s something deep in me that won’t let me give in. When my limbs grow cold at the thought, I realize that the something is fear. I’m absolutely terrified, so I say, “It’s not just location.” I wince, physically aching from the icicles flowing through my veins. “It’swhowe are.”

“Who we are works amazingly together.” He leans into me.

I step closer, touching his chin to bring his eyes to mine. “Listen to me.” I meet his soulful, broken gaze. “You’re an amazing man. But this is about me.” I try to sound sure even though I’m anything but. “We can’t be together because if we are, I’ll fall in love with you. I’ll want to marry you. And that can’t happen.”

“Whycan’t that happen? And why can’t we just take it one day at a time?“ He rakes a hand through his sopping hair.

Feeling pushed and defensive, I cry out, “Because I already know how I feel about you!”

His stormy eyes flicker. “Me too. I’m already never getting over you, so what’s the point?” His face twists in anguish. “You’re all I think about. You’re in my dreams. I miss you when you’re gone, even if it’s just a few hours. I want to talk to you at the end of every day. What am I supposed to do with all that?”

My heart is bursting and breaking at the same moment. “Let it go.”

“I don’t want to let it go.”

“We have to.” I run my bare foot through the puddle my shoes made on the porch, my jaw clenched.

“Dammit, Willow. Stop trying to love with your head. You can only love with your heart, and I love you. From the moment I met you.”

His words make my pulse skyrocket, but then there’s that fear again, racing up my spine like an arctic blast. And that’s the part that brings everything to a halt. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Say you feel the same. Say you love me too.”

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