Page 101 of Dare to Hold
The words are out before I can stop them—raw, honest, unguarded.
And I see it on her face. The way her eyes drop to my mouth.
My hand tightens reflexively on her back, myheart hammering like it’s fighting against every ounce of self-control I’ve got left.
For a split second, I almost cave.
But I don’t.
I close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe, to remember who I am now. Who I want to be for her.
And then, slowly, I let her go.
My hands fall to my sides like they’re protesting the decision, and I take a step back, putting space between us I don’t actually want.
Her eyes are wide, uncertain. And the ache that hits me in that moment is sharp—like walking away from something I’ve spent years hoping to find.
“I have to go,” I say, but it comes out hoarse. Like I’m trying to convince myself.
She nods, but her silence says everything. She doesn’t want me to go either.
I rake a hand through my hair, hesitating at the door. Every part of me is pulling in two directions—toward her warmth, her trust, her lips still tinged with goodbye…and toward the promise I made to do this the right way.
I glance back, meeting her eyes one last time, my voice softer now. “But if you only knew how much I didn’t want to walk away.”
Her voice is barely a whisper. “I know.”
I reach for the doorknob, fingers tightening around it, but my heart won’t let me go just yet. I turn back, needing her to hear this. “If you need anything, anything, you call me. I’ll be there.”
She nods, her eyes shining. “I will. And Gray?” She hesitates, cheeks flushing pink as the words spill out, shaky but sure. “I love you.”
That’s all it takes. I cross the space between us one lasttime, cupping her face like I need to memorize it, and kiss her—desperate, tender, full of everything I’m feeling.
“I love you too, Ivy,” I murmur against her lips, my voice thick.
I linger, forehead resting against hers for a beat longer, then force myself to step back before I ruin what we’re building by risking it all.
“I’ll see you soon,” I whisper, and then the door clicks shut behind me.
And the moment it does, the silence hits like a wall.
I reach my truck and stand here for a beat, staring at the night sky, hands in my pockets, trying to breathe around the ache in my chest.
I didn’t stay.
Not because I didn’t want to.
But because I did.
Because I want her for more than a moment.
And that’s what makes walking away the hardest choice I’ve ever made…and the most important one too.
The coffee shop smells like cinnamon and roasted beans—comfort baked into the air. I spot Jack right away in the back corner booth, same place as always, sipping on what’s probably his second cup of black coffee.
His head lifts when I walk in. “Hey, stranger.”
I slide into the booth across from him, shrugging off the cool morning air. “Hey, old man.”
