Page 118 of Bitter Truths

I kiss him because I crave his taste one more time and after, he pulls me into his arms and snuggles me deep.

The time is far too short, as I lay with him and allow myself these last moments, cherishing every fucking feeling before I slip from the bed. Ignoring the sweet slide in my stomach at the sight of him sleeping so peacefully beside me, I grab my pants.

He’s so beautiful, and my heart clenches to find his mouth parted on a sigh. Is he dreaming of me?

Griffin and me, we’re like ice and fire. Our love runs so deep it’s no wonder it turned to hate. He may light up my world, but he’s also the one who stole it from me. Now after everything that’s brought us here, we can never get it back. It’s too fucking late.

Sliding on my clothes quietly, I stare at him blankly, memories rushing through me so quickly it’s almost painful. The first time we stared at the stars together, and he took extra care to make sure I was warm, holding my hand with a nervous smile. After his first big game, when he sought me out in the stands with a smile so wide, my heart flew from my chest. The light in his eyes when he looked at me and proclaimed I was too damn smart to cry over what Sandy Jenkins wrote about me on the bathroom wall. It all rolls around in my head as he shifts in his sleep, and I cover my mouth to hold back the sob.

Would we be here if I hadn’t turned to Jason in revenge? If he hadn’t said whatever he said to Jason?

What was once beautiful is now ugly because his love turned to disgust and mine to hate, and now we’re at a crossroads because he couldn’t let me be, and I couldn’t stand tall through it.

He was my first love and maybe my last; I don’t know, but we were damned from the fucking beginning.

With my shoes tied, I walk around the bed and stop at the door when Griffin says gruffly, “Where are you going?”

I stare at the wall beyond me because even though this was my plan, it still fucking hurts down to my soul. “I’ve got plans.”

“Plans?”

I hear the rustle of the sheets as he sits up, and I close my eyes against the vision of his body, but it’s no use because it’s burned into my damn retinas. His sexy arms that bulge with muscle are bunching as he maneuvers around. His six-pack abs ripple under the movement. The dragon tattoo he now displays proudly on his arm undulates enticingly as he covers the goods, and they are fucking good.

“Yes,” I rasp, clearing my throat. But all arousal fades with his next words because this is it. The ending and while the burning hot coal of hate for Dr. Marks, resting like a poker on my chest pulses in disgust, my poor aching heart clenches in regret.

We were never meant to outrun this because you can’t hide behind the secrets and lies. Max started this shit show. Griffin pushed it to the edge. Now I’m going to burn it to ash.

“What plans?”

“I’ve got a date,” I say, biting my trembling lip.

Forgiveness is supposed to be sweet, but really, it’s just another form of darkness, and I’m wallowing in the motherfucking filth because now that I’ve finally found redemption, I have to give it back.

“A date?” he growls as more rustling breaks out, and I feel his heat against my back.

“Yes,” I say as calmly as possible, but it’s through a throat thick with unshed tears.

“So, this was what? You fucked me for . . .?”

“Fun,” I say flippantly. “I fucked you because I can.”

“Hals,” he says in a warning tone.

“Griff,” I say sassily, walking to the door.

“What is this? A punishment?”

“Isn’t that what it always was?”

“No,” he growls, “it was because being apart hurts more than this does. Halsey, nothing about this is easy. You think I don’t feel? Well, I do. But I can’t not be around you. It’s a fucking obsession. You think I hung out at your house all those years for any other reason?”

“You were hanging out with Max. You ignored me,” I huff.

“Yeah, well, I was still pissed off, but that doesn’t mean I could stay away,” he mutters.

“You’re telling me you came over every day because you couldn’t stand to be away from me?” I ask in disbelief, spinning around to stare at him.

Strangely, I see a faint flush rising on his cheekbones, and tears prick the backs of my eyes, but I look away and whisper, “Then why didn’t you just say something?”

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