Chapter 39 #3
And that’s what gave me the confidence to blurt out—
“I love you.”
It was out then. I couldn’t take it back. Not that I wanted to. Not that I ever, ever wanted to. But it was out. And now all I had to do was hope and pray that he didn’t want to run for the hills.
I studied his reaction like it was my religion.
His eyes softened just a little, like tonnes of weight were slipping from his shoulders right before my eyes.
The corners of his mouth twitched, like he was simultaneously trying not to smile and scream the same thing right back at me.
His chest quickened its rise and fall, but I couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.
It took me another ten seconds to realise that it was probably a bad thing.
My heartbeat quickened. My palms went slick, and I had the urge to deny what I’d said—apologise for being so abrupt. But then I realised that was stupid, because I did love him, and I wasn’t sorry about it.
I kept my eyes on his, watching his mouth slip open and quiver, like he was trying to catalogue every word he knew just to find the right ones. But another ten seconds dragged by and still… nothing.
In some ways I felt guilty for springing that on him—but only for a second.
In my head, for that moment of doubt, I felt like Jamie.
Our attacks weren’t nearly the same. I mean, mine was a love confession and his was a federal crime.
But my heart couldn’t differentiate the two right now.
It was too busy trying not to implode because he still hadn’t said anything.
My head dropped and I stared at my lap, and immediately his hands found mine, bringing my eyes back to his. It felt desperate, but I didn’t care.
His eyes were drowning in sorrow, which only made me pull my smile tight. Before he could speak, I whimpered, “It’s okay.”
“Cora.” His sigh was so sad.
I shook my head, pulling my hand from his and wrapping my arms around myself. “It’s okay, really.”
He shuffled closer, his body warming mine as his hands reached for me. “No, you don’t understand—”
“I really do.” I nodded, backing up. “It’s fine, Marcus.” My lip began to quiver, my voice to shake. I peered left, avoiding his gaze. “I’d uh… I'd like to go home now. If that's okay.”
His voice crack was like an arrow through my chest. “Cora, please—”
“Let me go home.” My glassy eyes held his, strong as anything. “Please.”
And then, as single tear slipped down my cheek, I didn’t think I’d ever seen another human being look so heartbroken.
I swatted it away as fast as I could. Pretending that being here wasn't killing me.
The drive back to the house was probably the most painful twenty minutes of my life. And that was saying a lot. I’d had many painful moments, but this one? It hurt worse than the rest. More than my dad leaving. More than seeing Mum crumble. More than Jamie.
Because this was me, handing over something real. Something raw.
Not just my body. Not just a moment.
But the words. The truth.
I told him I loved him.
And he said nothing.
No echo. No lie to cushion the fall. Just silence.
And maybe that’s what made it so unbearable. Not the heartbreak, but the humiliation. Because for once, I didn’t run. No—I forgot about the logic of gravity and jumped.
But he didn’t catch me when I fell.
The second he stopped the car, he reached for me, but I left. I unbuckled my seatbelt, pushed open the door, not bothering to slam it, and ran up the steps to the house. I was halfway to freedom when I heard his door slam, and his footsteps follow.
“Cora.” He called. “Cora, wait.”
“I don’t want to wait,” I muttered, knowing he heard it.
His shadow stretched into my peripheral as I fumbled for my keys, fingers trembling too much to latch onto anything solid.
“Please, can we just talk—”
I spun around to face him, words sharp on my tongue. “There’s really nothing to talk about. Okay?”
I turned to leave, but he reached for me, gently, catching my wrist with just enough force to stop me, never enough to scare me.
And it was so strange, the way he could do that. How he could touch me like that and somehow still make me feel safe. Maybe because he never meant it to hurt. Every part of his hold was warm. Steady. Reassuring.
I looked up at him—and God, the way he was breathing, like just being near me knocked the air from his lungs.
And this man had the audacity to wonder why I’d fallen in love with him?
“You don’t get it,” he said, voice low and tight. “It’s not… I can’t…”
His face twisted like he was about to break. And somehow, that was worse. Because a part of me—against all logic—still wanted to wait for him.
Just another minute. Just one more second.
He sucked in a breath, but no words came. Just silence. And staring. And more silence.
Until I realised—
Maybe his words were never going to come.
So I took the lead. Again.
“Do you love me?” I asked, stepping closer, standing directly beneath him, falling into the storm of his eyes. I shrugged, barely holding myself together. “Yes or no?”
His head shook. “It’s not that simple.”
“It is,” I said, voice breaking. “It is, if you want it to be.”
The night breeze slipped past us, cool against my burning cheeks, brushing my hair off my neck. And the seconds that followed? They felt like whole lifetimes, dragging and stretching as I waited for something that wasn’t coming.
“Yes or no?” I whispered—barely a breath.
But I already knew. I knew from the way he looked at me, like I was a wound he didn’t know how to heal. Like he was already mourning something he couldn’t give me.
And still, the truth knocked the breath out of me.
I nodded, just once, and the motion cracked something open inside me. A tear slipped free.
I stepped back. Out of his grasp. Out of his reach.
His head shook, his lip trembling. “Cora…”
My own voice shook. “It’s fine.” I reached for the keys again, even though nothing felt fine. “I’ll be fine.”
I jammed the key into the lock with shaking hands, but before I could turn it, he tried again.
“The gala…” His voice caught. My eyes lifted, locking onto his. “Shall I—”
I cut him off with a small shake of my head. “I think I can look after myself now.”
My eyes raked over him, in the way that you only ever looked at something when you knew you were never going to see it again.
Or at least see it the same. And I think that's what hurt more.
From now one I wouldn't smile when I looked over at his door.
I wouldn't get that buzz in my stomach whenever I smelt him.
And I wouldn't feel like I was worthy of love when his eyes found mine, even in the busiest of crowds.
Before I took a step back, my shook fell, before I wrapped my arms around my torso like chainmail, and dared to look into those eyes I loved one last time. "Don't do the boombox thing." Another tear. "I don't think my heart would be strong enough to tell me to stay away."
And before I could fall even deeper for a man who couldn’t catch me, I twisted the key, pushed the door open, and slipped inside.
Only when it clicked shut behind me did, I let go.
I crashed back against the wall, knees buckling as I slid to the floor. And there, in the quiet, with no one left to see me unravel, I finally let the sobs tear through me. Let the tears fall—unapologetic and endless.
Because nothing hurt like being brave, and still ending up alone.