54. Nick
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
NICK
I’m the biggest fucking idiot on the entire planet.
How have I let things get so entirely fucked in the span of a couple of hours?
I didn’t realize just how badly I was letting my fear of losing Izzy get in the way of my happiness—how much I was self-sabotaging.
I can’t do that again. I can’t fall into that place I did when my parents died, and my brother left. I’m going to fight like hell for her, and even if she never forgives me, I have to try.
I have to stop living in fear. It’s not enough to be a better person through the easy shit. I have to be better through the shit that scares me.
I make my way through the booths, looking for the one person I love more than anyone on this damn planet.
I find Georgie instead.
“That way,” she sighs, pointing. “You are in serious goddamn trouble.”
“I’m aware,” I growl back. I don’t need Georgie to pile on. I don’t have the strength for it.
“Well, are you aware of the fact that I am now also in trouble?”
I lift a questioning brow.
She huffs, pain in her eyes. “Isabella is mad at me, too, for not telling her. She now believes we’ve both lied to her and have been talking behind her back. Which, honestly, we have been. So, thanks for that.”
Fuck. I hadn’t even considered how this could affect their friendship. “I’m sorry, Georgie.”
“Just fix it.”
I stalk in the direction she pointed, toward the stage.
“Hi, Lunamois! How are we doin’ tonight?” A voice I don’t know filters through the speakers. The band must be starting.
“I can’t wait to rock out with you!” A cheer from the crowd is her answer, but I don’t care because I’ve zeroed in on Izzy.
Izzy.
My beautiful mate stands next to the stage, talking to a sound engineer. I don’t care about them. I just care that I’ve found her.
The music starts, the crowd dances, and I make my way toward her.
As if she can feel me, her head turns, and she makes eye contact. What I find there chills every bone in my body. The pain makes me want to rip my heart out of my chest and offer it to her to show how desperately I love her.
Her gaze hardens so quickly, I’m half-convinced I imagined the pain. The walls I worked so hard to dismantle build back up again.
Despite the ache in my chest, I keep pushing my way to her through the dancers until I’m so close I could touch her.
But I don’t. I lost that privilege.
“Dance with me?” I ask. Maybe I’m a dumbass for not leading with an apology, but I want to dance with my woman at the event we’ve worked so hard on together.
She stares at my outstretched hand as if it’ll snap up and bite her. As if she’s scared. Of me.
“Izzy,” my voice is soft. Soft enough that I’m sure she won’t hear it over the noise of the crowd and the band, but she looks up at me with those forest-canopy green eyes, and I know she heard how desperately I need her.
“Okay,” she replies, taking my hand.
Has she always fit me so perfectly? The way our bodies glide together so easily is something I’ve taken for granted.
I pull her into the crowd, right to the very center of it, so she can see how people are enjoying themselves and appreciating the work she put into this.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice cracks over the words, betraying the indifferent mask she tried to give me.
I press our foreheads together and, despite how angry—how hurt—she is, she closes her eyes and leans into it. Leans into me.
“I told myself I didn’t want to pressure you.
I didn’t want to tell you right away and have you think that you were being forced into something you didn’t fully understand.
I wanted us to come together naturally.” I take a deep breath.
“But, I think the real reason is that I was scared it would be too much, and I’d lose you just like I’ve lost every single person I’ve ever loved. ”
Her breath shudders against my lips, and it takes everything in me not to taste her.
“I thought you didn’t want me to be your mate.”
Her words take root in my stomach, causing an aching sense of dread. I’ve worked so hard to let her know I’m a safe place for her, that I love her for who she is. That she never has to worry about me.
And I betrayed that.
“You are so much more than I ever could have hoped for, Isabella Gregory. You and everything you are. I am so sorry I lied to you.”
“I’m sorry you did, too.”
I want to tell her I love her—that I would spend the rest of my life making this up to her, treating her like the goddess I believe she is—but something about that seems cruel in this moment.
I need to give her time to figure out how she feels about everything.
I don’t want to tell her I love her when she doesn’t trust me.
“I will do everything in my power to earn your trust back, Izzy. But it’s up to you if you’d like to give me that chance.”
She looks up at me with so much sadness in those beautiful eyes that it breaks my heart in two. “I need to think about it. For now, can we just dance?”
I pull her into my chest and lead her in a dance too slow for the music, but I don’t care. I don’t know where we’re going. I don’t know what the future holds.
But for now, I’m going to dance with the woman I love.
And that’s enough.
It has to be.