Page 91 of The Prodigal

I can’t be in love—not now.

“I can’t do this,” I say, my voice void of emotion.

“Did I hurt you?” She moves off me quickly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Yeah, you made me feel.

You made me want.

You made me love and doomed us both.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I confess, freeing myself from the sand.

“What’s wrong, then?” She offers her hand to help me up.

I don’t take it, preferring to stay where I belong—beneath her in a shallow grave.

“Remington, what’s wrong?”

She can feel the distance seeping in between us, creating the space that I should have kept all along.

Sighing, I rake my hands through the sand, pulling strength from the ocean. “I need to tell you something.”

Not even the ocean breeze stirs.

“Okay,” she says, sitting down next to me and pulling her knees to her chest.

She looks so small and fragile that I almost change my mind.

I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to be the villain. I want to be her hero.

I want to keep her.

But that’s not my life—my story doesn’t have a happily ever after.

“Remington,” Eden prompts softly—too softly for my liking. “You’re going to confess a ruthless truth, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” I blow out a harsh breath. “I’m tired of pretty lies.”

She nods like she knew this was coming, and it breaks my heart to let her down.

“In another life,” I start, swallowing past the lump in my throat, “I would keep you. I would be everything you deserve.”

Her eyes find mine as she blinks back tears.

“I would be your Adam.”

“But not in this lifetime,” she confirms, her voice raspy.

I nod. “I haven’t been honest with you, Eden.”

“Tell me,” she says, staring at the water as if she’s finding strength, too. “Tell me like you would anyone else. Tell me as thevillain.”

My heart seems to stop.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t be the villain—not to her. Not now, after everything we’ve been through.

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