Page 117 of Sweet Caroline
I lift my pinched face, and he thumbs a tear from my cheek.
“I wish…” He swallows and tries again. “Look, I have no right to say this to you. But I wish this wasn’t it. Wasn’t goodbye.”
I close my eyes. “Me too.”
The words are barely a whisper, and I nearly crumple againsthim when he takes my face in his hands. And then his lips are on mine.
I can’t tell what’s breaking my heart more—the kiss or the gentle way he’s holding me.
Don’t leave me. Please.
I never want it to end. Never want to let go. But I know, despite every fiber of my being trying to find some way to ask him to stay, I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk his job, his sobriety—hislife—by asking for more of him than he can give.
When our lips part, his regret is potent. “Can’t believe I don’t get to see you again.”
“Maybe we’ll cross paths?” The prospect sounds pathetic the moment the words leave my mouth, and I wipe at my wet cheeks. “God, is that the best we can hope for, if we can’t even stay friends?”
“I don’t think I could ever just be friends with you.” The creases in his brow deepen, and he cradles my jaw, brushing a thumb over my cheek. “Wouldn’t know how.”
I drop my head, feeling like the pain is pulling me into the ground.
“And I fucking hate this, too, okay?” he adds.
My ribs squeeze at his words, but I force a nod.
“Caroline.” He lifts my face, but I can’t look him in the eye. “You need to know… Fuck, if I could do this—for real, I mean?—”
“Stop. Don’t say any more, okay?” I shake my head, trying to fight off a fresh wave of tears. I reach for his face, willing time to stop yet resigned to having no such power.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, dropping his forehead to mine. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“For what?”
“Sorry I’m not better. Not ready. Not good enough for you.”
“Miles, no… You’re everything I?—”
“No.” He pulls back, his brow pinched in pain. “Your dad… As much as I fucking hate it, he’s right. You deserve so much more than this broken mess.”
“You’renot broken,” I plead, gripping handfuls of his coat. “God, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”
“No, baby… I’m too fucked up.”
Breath rushes out of me. “Aren’t we all?”
“Not like this.” He inhales like he’s trying to steady himself. “Fuck, I wish I was better enough to do this right. But just look what happened earlier. I’m not… I don’t deserve you, Caroline, I’m?—”
“Stop! I love you!” The words tear from my chest, hollowing me out. “I love you.” I say it again, quieter this time, searching his face.
A puff of warm air clouds the small space between us before his mouth meets mine, the taste of salt slipping between our lips. Whether the tears are his or mine, I don’t know, and I couldn’t care less. Because this kiss cracks me in half. And it’s anything but a clean break.
I finally pull away, kissing his cheeks, his jaw, the cleft in his chin. I can’t seem to wean myself from his skin as I command my heart to accept what it never will—that I love him and I can’t have him.
“Caroline…” The way he whispers my name as he pushes his fingers into my hair threatens to destroy me. I touch his lips, shaking my head.
I don’t need him to say it back. And, if he did, I might not be able to do what I need to do.
“I know I told you I didn’t want a relationship. And, yeah, what I want changed, but I’m not asking you for one, okay? Because I meant what I said. Back at the arcade.” I swipe at my wet cheeks. “I could never forgive myself if I hurt you. If I compromised your recovery. And I’ve come close enough as it is. Twice now.”
