Page 63 of Come Here and Kiss Me

I do what is supposed to be right but feels so fucking wrong.

Instead of breaking it to her easily, I flat-out spew, “We knew this wasn’t going to last.”

She doesn’t say a word, though the light in her eyes dims.It’s like watching her walls go up. A version of her I used to know looks back at me, and I already hate it. I wish I could go back, but I have to do this. I’ve already started it. She can’t go through this shit with me.

The total silence is deafening.My heart pounds, and I wait, but she says nothing.My head spins, and I lean against my desk. My knuckle is still split, and I stare at it rather than her as I tell her, “It’s been over a month, and we did our part. It’s a mess as it is, and it’s best if we just split and lay low.”

Still, she doesn’t speak.

She doesn’t move either.

She’s sort of just there. Giving me nothing.Not fighting.Not objecting.Just there.

I can’t read her one way or the other, and for the first time, it scares me. How much I can truly hurt her even though I’m trying to save her.

Love her.

“It makes sense if we split because of the scandal. I know I said it didn’t matter what people thought… I was wrong.”

I can’t tell her the truth.I can’t bring her into this.

The words feel like I’m literally spitting out battery acid. They burn coming out, and I barely think I’ll make it out of here alive. I’m going to bury us both.

I stare up at her.She’s beautiful and stoic without an emotion whatsoever.I stand straighter, attempting to be the man she needs but wishing I could be selfish.Wishing I could take her and run from it all.

“You’ll get the money I promised you. You can stay here, and I can move into one of my other homes. Or we can stay together… Just not.You can take all the time you need.” I swallow down the harsh reality.

She still hasn’t said one fucking thing, and I’m beginning to worry it was all in my head, and she doesn’t feel the love for me I think she does.

Maybe I’ve imagined it?

Want it to be true?

She doesn’t offer an option.She doesn’t say it wasn’t fake for her.She doesn’t ask anything of me at all.

Right when I think I’ll get a response from her, she spins to leave without saying one damn thing. I’m in front of her, blocking her exit before she can take a step to go.

I grip her oversized cashmere sweater and hold her close. Her leather leggings press against my skin.

It’s almost like she knows I’m full of shit, and I don’t want to lose her. That I’m just ending this because I have to, not because I want to.

The first thing she says to me after everything I just shared with her is, “You’ll get out of my way, or I’ll call the police.”My body turns to ice.She doesn’t even look at me.

“Brook—”

“Get the fuck out of my way.”I’ve never heard such venom from her. It shocks me to my core.

I’m fully aware if I touch her, this will be the end of us.

It’s like she wants us to end too, and it’s too hard of a pill to swallow.

Why isn’t she fighting for us?

It’s a selfish request, thinking she’ll fight me on this. It kills me that she’s not. That she’s just surrendering to me as if I never mattered. As ifwenever mattered.

I let the devil on my shoulder win.

I can’t let her go.

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