Page 67 of It's Only Love

“I wanted to tell you; I just didn’t know how. You’ve been in such a good place and I couldn’t bear the thought of ruining that for you,” he began explaining, desperation fusing his tone, she held up a hand to stop him from talking.

“You need to leave,” she stated, her tone void of any emotion now, he reached for her again.

“Please just let me-”

“Don’t touch me!” she screamed. He jumped, surprised at her outburst. He took a step back, he didn’t want to leave, couldn’t stand to leave her like this. She turned away from him, dismissing him, and he knew she wasn’t in a place where he could reach her, he would give her some space and try again.

“Okay, I’ll go, but I’ll be back in the morning.”

She ignored him.

She picked up the box of letters and carried them over to the armchair in the corner of the room, not looking at him. She was in shock and needed some time to process her feelings.

“I’ll come back,” he said again, but she didn’t respond, just stared at the box of letters in her lap.

It killed him to leave her, but he did. He sat in his truck for an hour outside the house before he drove home. Then he sat in his study all night thinking about her and how much he betrayed her. It shredded his insides when he thought about the woman he loved hurting so badly.

Wait, loved? Did he love her? It hit him with such sharp clarity he could have laughed if things weren’t so grim. He felt it, like fire coursing through his veins, he never felt like this about anyone before, the strength of his feelings terrifying him. That she was hurting so unbearably and to know he could’ve prevented it or eased it, clawed at his heart.

He betrayed her, just as she was starting to trust him and give herself to him and he destroyed that precious gift. He needed her to forgive him, he needed to tell her how he felt, and he hoped she would feel the same. She was the family he needed, she was the missing piece of him that he had been searching for; he just prayed it wasn’t too late and that she could forgive him.

After a long, sleepless night, Dean headed back to Christy’s in the morning. His sense of urgency driving every step he took. He let himself into the house, calling out to her. He checked downstairs first and the food he brought yesterday still sat on the counter. He tossed it in the trash before it attracted wildlife.

Worried, he went upstairs and found her still sitting in the armchair where he left her yesterday. She was wearing the same clothes as the day before, her eyes red and swollen, a glassy sheen to them. She looked heartbroken and exhausted, and still she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She slid her gaze to him when he came in. Her eyes were so emotionless they scared him. She didn’t move other than that, so he wrapped his arms around her, carried her to the bathroom and sat her on the lid of the toilet. He turned the shower on, stripped her, then himself, and helped her into the stall. He sat her on the lip of the bath while he washed her hair and body.

She didn’t say anything, didn’t react, so he talked. He told her how sorry he was, how much he cared for her, how he planned to make it up to her and how he would never do anything to hurt her again, desperation lining his words. He switched off the shower, dried and dressed them both, and carried her into the room she was staying in and put her into bed, tucking the duvet around her, hoping she would just drift off. He kissed her forehead and then left the room and returned to her father’s room.

He picked up the letters that were scattered around the floor, tucked them back into envelopes, and put them back in the box. He didn’t read any of them, refused to unless she wanted him to. He placed the box back on the armchair so she could find them if she needed them and then went back to check on her. He found her out of bed and pacing around the room.

“Christy, I’m so sorry I kept this from you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I didn’t read any of them, not that it makes a difference, but I just wanted you to know. I didn’t know how to tell you. You were so happy, and I couldn’t ruin that, I was selfish because I lov-”

“I need Beau,” she interrupted, his heart thudded in his chest at her words.

“What?”

“Beau. I want Beau, now,” she repeated, her tone hardening. He heard a roaring sound in his ears as he tried to understand what she was saying.

“You want Beau? You need Beau?” he demanded, voice rising with his hurt. As she nodded, his chest started tightening, how could he have been so blind? He should have seen it, the way they interacted with each other and their closeness, he had assumed it was just a platonic love. Could she have wanted Beau all along? Was it never really Dean she wanted? She tried to tell him she didn’t want anything serious, only wanted casual, but he didn’t listen and he lost his stupid, soft heart. The determination in her eyes cemented his thoughts. He said he would do whatever it took to make this right, he could at least give her what she asked for. With a heavy heart he made the call. Ten minutes later, Beau burst into the house and Dean met him at the top of the stairs.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, concern lining his features. Dean couldn’t talk, just gestured into the room. Beau brushed passed him and into the room, when Christy saw him relief flooded her face and she threw her arms around him. Dean’s heart cracked in his chest as his suspicions were confirmed, he didn’t know what to do, was this it for them? When they broke apart she sat Beau on the bed and then came over to Dean.

“You can leave now,” she said, and shut the door in his face. His mind exploded with images of what she and Beau would do in that room. His chest split open, acid poured inside and he couldn’t catch his breath. Taylor had been right; he was a fool. He left the house, his heart breaking with each step he took.

He had never loved anyone like he loved her, the pain like nothing he ever felt before. He didn’t know what to do or where to go. He couldn’t stand the thought of going to his house without her. This was why he had never taken a woman there, because now all he would think of when he was there, was Christy. He couldn’t take the pain, he needed to numb the way she made him feel and to forget he loved her, until it stopped hurting. He got in his truck and headed straight for the bar.

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