Page 124 of Chasing After You
I get up from my seat to retreat to my original one with my book, positioning myself so the tears beginning to fall can’t be seen by Henry. I’m not sure why I bothered to turn, because he doesn’t look away from the window once.
CHAPTER FORTY
Mirabelle
THE HOUSE IS empty when we get back. Wilson is still in New York with the team, so we have the house to ourselves.
I’m mentally and physically drained from the last twenty-four hours.
“I’m going to go lie down. I didn’t sleep much last night,” I say, as I climb the stairs with my suitcase, heading tomyroom—not Henry’s.
I don’t bother looking behind me to see if he heard me because all I think he wants right now is a fight, and I refuse to give one to him.
I fall into a dreamless sleep almost instantly after curling up inmybed.
When I wake to the feeling of lips pressing against mine, it’s dark outside, and the smell of whiskey is pungent. I’m groggy enough it takes me a moment to process Henry kissing me.
“Mirabelle,” Henry slurs, breaking the kiss as he rests his head in the crook of my neck.
“Henry, are you drunk?” I ask, and he lifts his head.
“Kinda.”
And then his lips are on mine again.
It’s a drug I can’t resist. I give into the feeling of being loved by Henry as his mouth coaxes a moan from mine. I hold onto his shoulders, getting lost in the moment as Henry moves to position himself over me. “Mirabelle, you’re so . . . beautiful. I need you. Please.” He struggles to get the words out and then everything that’s always felt so right feels so wrong.
The bitter taste of whiskey is the only thing I can taste, and I immediately push Henry away so I can collect my thoughts.
“You’re drunk,” I say, sanity coming back to me.
“So what?”
“I’m not doing anything with you while you’re drunk. You’re not in the right state of mind,” I say, moving further away from him on the bed.
“But I want you.”
I feel something inside me break when I hear those four words. I know this isn’t about me in any way, but this isn’t Henry. “You couldn’t even look at me earlier, but now that you’re drunk, you want to fuck me?”
“Fine. We don’t have to fuck,” Henry says, as I turn the lamp on to look at him.
His eyes are unfocused and bloodshot; quite frankly, he looks terrible. I give myself a second to pause, trying not to react impulsively, but I’m not perfect. I’m hurt by how he treated me on the plane and by how it felt to have every single call rejected last night.
“Henry, I told you I’m here for you. Let me be here for you.”
“And I told you I don’t want to talk.”
“I think if you know—”
Henry scoffs, and I don’t recognize him. “Maybe Bailey is right. You’re so caught up in your perfect fucking world that it’s hard for you to understand my entire world is falling apart. My own mother didn’t want me, and that’s something you’ll never be able to understand. I don’t want to hear what you think. Life isn’t always gold medals, Mirabelle. I was wrong to think you’d understand all I need right now is a little time to process my shit.”
All the air rushes from my lungs with that well-placed blow. “I’m trying to give you time, but I don’t think it’s wrong to want to help you. I-I can’t believe you’d even say my brother is right.” This is wrong. I don’t want to fight him. “I know you’re going through a lot, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like shit, when all I’ve ever done my entire life is love you.I’ve spent years chasing after you, Henry.I fucking love you, and I hate that I can’t fix this for you, because it physically pains me to see you hurting. I can’t do anything if you won’t talk to me. Tell me you need time, and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want.”
Henry straightens. “You’re right. You can’t fix this, so stop trying.”That’s what he got from that?
“I love you, so respectfully, no. I’m not going to stop trying.”
“Fine.” He gets up, wobbling as he does. “Do whatever you want.I don’t care.”
