Page 100 of I Could Be Yours

ESSIE

He knows. My stomach feels like it’s about to turn itself inside out. Somehow he’s seen inside my head and has plucked out the fantasy where I’ve walked us down the aisle. That has to be the reason he looks serious and determined.

Just because he said he believes in love again, doesn’t mean he wants it himself, or even believes in it withme.

I swallow down the bile made of anxiety and the fear of heartache. “Sure, we can talk.”

The song changes, and people flood the dance floor, making it an easy escape. Nate keeps his hand on my lower back as he leads me away from the wedding festivities. His jaw is tight, and his brow is furrowed. I’ve grown accustomed to his softness over the past few days, to the warm smiles and casual affection. To falling asleep in his arms. I’m sure it’s about to come to a screeching halt, and I’m not ready.

He leads me to an empty gazebo by the beach. The moon reflects off the water, and the sky is a wash of twinkling stars. The waves lap the sand like a soft heartbeat. It’s perfectly romantic. Straight out of a fairy tale.

Nate tucks a hand in his pocket and turns to face me. “I need to apologize.”

My throat is tight, and tears prick behind my eyes. How stupid that I let my heart out of its cage last night and forgot to put it back in when the sex was over. “For what?”

He rubs a hand over his chin. “For being a dick.”

I frown. “I don’t understand.”

“For ghosting you before I left for university.”

“Oh.” My stomach fills with lead. I shoved that hurt into the closet with all the other boys who did the same, used it to fuel my belief that I could keep my feelings out of the equation with Nate.

“That kiss…” He shakes his head.

“You don?—”

“It was the best kiss of my life. But then one of my friends started running his mouth, and I was leaving for Kingston in a few weeks, and I…” He runs a hand through his hair. “I panicked.”

Shame washes through me, and I have to avert my gaze. I can imagine what his friends said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he presses on. “I’m sorry I ghosted you, Ess. I didn’t want to start something when I was leaving in a few weeks. You were staying in Toronto, and I was going to be three hours away. It never would have worked.”

“It’s okay. I get it.” He wasn’t the first or the last guy to kiss me and make promises he never delivered on.

I was a serial dater in high school, which would have been less of a problem if I’d dated guys whodidn’tgo to my high school. But in grade eleven, I had a new boyfriend every other month, and four of them went to my school. Regardless, they all ended the same way: with me by myself again.

I was pretty and popular, and boys wanted a taste, but they didn’t wantme. They wanted the checkmark of approval from their friends that they’d dated me. And every time my heart got stomped on, I believed just a little bit more that this was all I was. Someone to play with and discard.

But I still held onto hope for the fairy tale ending. I had faiththat someone would see what was underneath and want all of me. That the love of a lifetime would find me the way it had found my parents when they met in university. That one day, someone would think I was worth falling for. I would finally give my heart to the right person, and they would take care of it.

“It’s not okay. I was a dick to you, and I kept being a dick when you moved back. You just seemed so…unaffected. And I thought maybe that kiss didn’t mean to you what it meant to me. It was a constant reminder of what I’d done all those years ago, and it made me feel like shit, so I took it out on you with my bad moods. You didn’t deserve it. Not then and not now.” His gaze meets mine, and he looks sopained. “Essie, I…I like you.” He shakes his head. “No. That’s not true.”

The knife to the heart almost takes me to my knees.

“I don’t just like you.” His voice drops to a whisper, like he’s sharing a forbidden secret. “I want a life with you.”

For a moment, time stands still. This is the opposite of what I expected, and I’m reeling. His eyes are wild, the energy around him frenetic. Before I can even respond he starts again.

“It could work this time. You and me. You’ve been here all along. You’ve never left. I was just too scared to take the risk.” He motions to our surroundings. “Being here together just proves how good everything will be. I can see our whole future playing out like a slideshow, Ess. I can see it with you.” He barely takes a breath before he says, “I think we can do this. I love you.”

Understanding pushes its way in, stomping on his declaration. He’s mistaking wedding magic for feelings. His mother showing up, my taking care of him, his brother marrying the love of his life—all of it is swirling together, heightening his fragile state, making him believe what he’s saying is true. But when we’re back in Toronto and reality settles in, he’ll realize none of what he thinks he’s feeling is real.

I fell into bed with Nate knowing he was the king of wrong guys. He’d already rejected me once, and it made him safe tohave some fun with. I want fairy-tale romance, and he thinks it’s what he’s offering, but I know if I reach out and take it, it will slip through my fingers and disappear.

“You don’t, though,” I say softly, my heart already breaking at his confused expression.

“What?”

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