Chapter Fifty-Six Gemma
Chapter Fifty-Six
Gemma
By the time I make it upstairs, I’m soaked, and every part of me feels like I’ve been in a car crash. I shut the door behind me, lean against it, and drop to the floor, my heart pounding.
Anna’s face—God, Anna’s face. I’ve known her for over a decade and I’ve never seen her look at anyone the way she looked at me tonight.
Like I was some wicked disease that needed to be cut out before it can spread.
I went behind her back and sabotaged our friendship.
I’ve been so bloody selfish.
Burying my face in my hands, I release everything I’ve been holding in the past thirty minutes. The past six weeks. Phlegm catches in my throat and my nose runs as I sob uncontrollably into my empty flat.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I rock back and forth, burying my head in Max’s robe as tears spill relentlessly, hot and heavy. The damp fabric smells of him and I ache.
I don’t know how long I sit there, but I’m barely standing when the buzzer goes off.
I screw my eyes shut, knowing exactly who it will be.
Max.
The buzzer sounds again, longer this time, like he’s holding it down. I stare at the intercom, my heart in my throat, desperately wanting to see him but terrified it’ll destroy Anna even further.
My legs feel barely attached as I rise and walk to the window. Peering out through sheets of rain, I see Max. Soaked to the bone, standing at the front steps.
He looks up and we lock eyes.
“GEMMA!” he calls. “GEMMA!”
I want to go to him. I want to run down the stairs, throw open the door, and fall into his arms like every stupid romance movie. I want so badly to believe that love is enough.
But how can it be when it hurts the people you care about the most?
How can something so pure and so beautiful be so breakable?
It feels like my heart is tethered to his, and wherever he goes, I’ll follow.
But I need to cut the cord. I need to let him go. I can’t ruin my friendship with Anna. She asked me to stay away from her brother, and I didn’t. I lied to her. Snuck around behind her back like a teenager. I broke her trust.
If I have to choose between them, then I choose Anna.
And all I can do is cry. Because I love Max. I do, with everything I have. But I can’t.
“GEMMA!” His voice carries through the downpour.
The buzzer goes silent, and for a devastating second, I think he’s given up.
Then the pounding starts. His fist slams against the building front door loud enough to wake the whole bloody street.
“I know you’re in there. Open the door!”
A cry leaves my body before I can stop it.
“I’m not leaving until you open this door! I’ll stay here all night if I have to!”
Of course he will, the stubborn bastard.
Be strong, Gemma.
Before I can talk myself out of it, my feet carry me across the room and down the stairs.
He stands there, drenched and beautiful, rainwater dripping from his hair and down his face. The hallway light catches each droplet. His clothes cling to his broad shoulders.
His eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks are flushed, chest heaving as if he’s run miles to reach me.
“Did you run here?” I ask, looking past him to the storm raging outside.
“I love you,” he says simply.
“Max,” I whisper, closing my eyes. I can’t witness the raw honesty in his gaze. I can’t bear the weight of it.
He crosses the threshold, and his hands find my biceps with urgency.
“I love you,” he repeats, his voice dropping lower.
The words impale me as my breath scrapes in and out of my lungs.
“I love you,” he says it again.
“Please stop,” I beg, refusing to open my eyes.
I can’t look at him. I can’t stare into his ocean eyes while he begs me to be his, knowing I have to refuse him.
His icy palms hold my face with such care it almost breaks me.
“I love you.” His voice is final, as if he’s made the decision for the both of us. I wish I could reach out and help him understand that it isn’t that simple.
He lifts my chin with his index finger.
Then, the pads of his thumbs sweep over my cheekbones, catching the tears as they fall. Leaning in, I feel the press of his lips against one cheek, then the other.
I encircle his wrists. I want to push against him, but my body refuses, holding me suspended between what I want and what I know I need to do.
“Look at me,” he whispers.
I shake my head no.
“Look at me.” It’s not a request this time but a demand.
I peel my lids open slowly, taking him in. Wet hair is plastered to his forehead. His eyes are red, searching for mine, like if he looked hard enough, he’d find the words I can’t bring myself to say.
I want you, too.
Stay. Don’t go.
But all I can see is Anna. How, like a coward, I ran away. How I wasn’t there for her when I’ve known deep down, for weeks, that she wasn’t okay—that I’ve neglected her. Lied to her. Hurt her. She needed her brother, and I took him.
“What did we do?” I pant. “We broke her.” I hiccup.
“Gemma—” His voice cracks on my name.
“She needs you, Max. Why are you here?” My words tumble out. “She needs you!”
I can tell he’s struggling to compose himself, his jaw working. “Please, don’t do this. I—”
“I can’t hear it,” I cry, finally finding the strength to push against his chest. “I can’t hear you say it because I don’t deserve it.”
“You do, Gemma,” he tries, but fails. I keep my palms against his chest, but he won’t budge.
So I do the only thing I know how.
I push him away.
“Leave,” I say, pounding my fists against his chest.
“Gemma,” he pleads.
“Go! I don’t want you here!”
He stumbles back. “You don’t mean that.”
My lip trembles. “Didn’t you see how much we hurt Anna? This can’t work. We’ll both lose her. And for what? This was just a fling.”
“A fling?” he says, stepping forward, crowding me.
“That’s all this ever was.” I sniffle. “It’s all we agreed to.”
“Don’t give me that shit, Gemma. Can you hear yourself?” He points to his ears. “Do you believe your own bullshit?”
“Go!” I shout, fighting back tears.
“Why are you doing this?” he demands. “After what you told me in the bath, you’re standing here telling me it meant nothing?”
“I’m doing what I should have done from the beginning. Chosen Anna,” I say, mustering as much strength as I can. “There’s nothing to fight for.”
He shakes his head, his arms dropping. “Nothing?”
“Don’t you see? You leave next week. What exactly are we fighting for? Long distance? When am I going to see you again? I can’t just drop my life here and fly over to New York whenever it suits you.”
“I’m not asking you to. You haven’t even given us a chance,” he says, drawing his brows together. “Is that what this is about? You don’t think I’d figure out a way to make this work?”
My shoulders deflate. “What’s the point?”
He steps forward again. “You’re the point, Gemma! This”—he waves a hand between us—“us!”
“No.” I wipe angrily at my tears. “Not with your life in New York and mine here—”
“Then I’ll stay here,” he says.
I scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous, Max.”
“I mean it.”
“And what? Throw away everything you’ve worked for?”
“No. It doesn’t need to be like that. I’ll handle it.”
My lips thin.
“You’re just scared,” he says, his voice barely carrying.
He’s right. I’m terrified.
He looks so unlike the Max I know. Younger. Smaller. As if all the fight has left his body. And maybe that’s what I need. I need him to give in. I need him to leave.
“Go, Max,” I bite back.
He blinks, staring in front of me. Muscles loose, eyes glistening with moisture.
“You don’t mean that,” he whispers.
Sucking in air, I straighten my spine. “Go, Max!”
The words hang in the air between us, and I see the moment they hit home.
I stay silent as he waits for a denial that will never come. When I stand my ground, his eyes harden.
“Fine,” he says, moving toward the door. Every part of me screams to stop him, but I stay silent.
“You know, I never thought you were a coward, Gemma,” he says quietly. “I guess that was my mistake.”
The door closes behind him, and with that, I gather what’s left of me and take my broken pieces upstairs.
The sobs I held back crash through me all at once, wracking my body until I can’t breathe, until I’m nothing but flayed skin and exposed nerves.
Sleep doesn’t find me quickly, but when it finally comes, I’m haunted by crystal blue eyes and the three words that died in my throat before he left.
The three words that could have changed everything.
I love you. I love you. I love you.