Page 157 of Accidental Husband

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"What does that matter?" I press my back into the wall. It's not enough space. And it's too much.

I want to pull him closer, whisper this in his ear, dissolve in his arms.

And I want to run to my room, hide under the covers, cry myself to sleep.

But there's nowhere to run.

There's no home.

My parents' place isn't home.

Jackson's place isn't home.

Griffin's place—

I always thought that could be home. But only if I—

"What do you need?" He presses his palms against his thighs. "Tell me what you need."

"I…"

"I want to help. Whatever it is." His voice softens. "I'm not good at this shit. I can't help unless you talk to me."

I try to find the words—Griff, I still cut—but they refuse to make it to my lips.

"Do you want to talk?"

No. Yes. Maybe.

"Jules."

"I want to… but I… I can't."

Hurt streaks his expression.

"I'm sorry, Griff. I just… I can't. Not yet."

"You can't what?"

"I can't." I try to find a better explanation. Something that will comfort him. That will promise we're still best friends. That we're still married. That we still have a fucking chance.

But there's nothing else to say.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I can't."

He stares back at me, confusion in his dark eyes.

But he doesn't fight me. Or ask me to stay. Or beg for an explanation.

"No," he whispers. "I can't do this."

He turns and walks out the door.

I stare at the thing, waiting for him to come back, to knock, to somehow understand.

But he doesn't.

Chapter Thirty-Six

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