Chapter Fifty-Six
Lilac
The ocean crashes over the dark boulders, and the sky is gray, as if it’s about to storm.
Irvin wants to have a picnic at the famous cliff in North Haven.
I don’t understand why he would want to come out here in this shitty weather.
He fills my plate with finger foods, and I eat slowly, popping a grape into my mouth.
We sit quietly, eating, the tension between us as thick as the clouds in the sky. Yesterday plays in my mind like a broken record. Now that I know what drives Irvin, I’m going to use it to my advantage.
He points to the mini cliff. “Do you want to jump in the water?”
I shake my head. “It’s too fucking cold, Irvin. You’re a lunatic. Do you know that?”
He chuckles. “I’m well aware.”
He gets up from the worn bench, leans down, and kisses my forehead. Then he removes his long-sleeve shirt and gray sweatpants, standing at the edge of the cliff in nothing but his boxers.
He glances down. “How deep do you think the water is?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’m not about to find out, either.”
“We’ll see about that.”
He dives into the water.
I drop my food and rush to the cliff. This lunatic actually jumped in.
I scan the water, but I don’t see Irvin.
“Irvin!” I shout.
My ears ring. Heat rushes to my face.
“Come on, Irvin! This shit isn’t funny!”
I stomp my foot.
“Fine. Drown. I’m not coming to save you! I’m tired of your games.”
I walk toward the white Mustang and open the driver’s side door.
Lilac, what are you doing? You can’t leave him here to die.
I roll my eyes at myself and rush back to the cliff.
He doesn’t come up for air. I strain to see through the dark, salty water. Panic claws at me. He isn’t surfacing. Did he die?
I should walk away. Let him drown. If I did, I’d be free. Free from him. Free from his shit.
But I don’t have it in me. Because if he’s dead, it would gut me. I do love the lunatic. He has my heart.
So I rush forward and dive headfirst off the cliff and into the icy water. I swim under the surface.
Irvin should be sinking, but I don’t see him. I come up for air, then search again.
At first, there’s nothing.
Then I see him—floating, half submerged.
I swim over and grab him as hard as I can, dragging him toward the shore. He coughs up water, lying flat on his back, then runs his fingers through his hair.
He smiles. “I was wondering if you were going to save me.”
Did he—
This bastard did not almost drown just so I’d save him.
“Are you fucking serious?” I snarl. “You nearly drowned just to prove a point? You have issues.”
He sits up and reaches for my hand, but I snatch it away.
“Yes. I wanted to prove a point.”
“What was the point?”
“For you to admit you love me.”
I roll my eyes at him.
Of all the ways to get those words out of me, this is what he chose. “Fuck you, Irvin.”
He stands and grips my chin, but I jerk away and shove him. He stumbles, nearly tripping over a rock.
“You proved my point,” he says. “You chose to save me.”
“It’s called being a decent person, you asshole.”
But deep down, I know he’s right. I did choose him.
“No,” he says. “If you really didn’t want anything to do with me like you claim, you wouldn’t have saved me. If you hated me, you would have let me drown.” He taps my nose. “You love me. You just won’t admit it.”
He wraps his hands around my waist, yanking me close. “Now, I’m more obsessed with you than ever.”
My heart pounds in my ears. Desire blooms in the pit of my stomach.
“What about you?” I ask.
“What about me?”
“Your obsession is rooted in love because you lost your mother—not because of me. You need my words to prove you’re loved because you feel like no one loves you.”
He’s quiet. Seagulls screech overhead. Waves crash brutally against the shore. Rain begins to fall, droplets splashing against my skin. We stand there, staring at each other.
“You’re right,” he says finally. “My obsession is about wanting to be loved. I’ve already accepted that about myself, my love.
” He pauses. “I know my feelings for you aren’t always healthy.
But why wouldn’t I want to hear I love you from the person I actually love?
” He strokes my hair. “I tell you I love you because you need to hear it.”
I shake my head. “Your love is forced.” I swallow around the lump in my throat.
“I was forced to be with you. I was forced to… fall in love with you.” I glance at the white sand, then back at him.
“You gave me no choice, Irvin. You took it away. Why would I tell you I love you when it wasn’t my choice?
” I pause. “That’s the only power I have left—my love for you.
” My eyes gloss over with tears. “You’re trying to take that too. Like you take everything else from me.”
He doesn’t respond for several seconds. Then he says quietly, “It’s the only way I know how to love, my princess.”
I nod. “I know. And it terrifies me.”
I step closer. “Let me keep something for myself. Let me have this. When I’m ready to tell you I love you, I will.
But forcing me to say it?” I shake my head.
“It’s going to piss me off. It’s going to push me further away.
” I cover my face and cry. “So even if I don’t really have power, please—just let me think I do. ”
Without a word, he pulls me into his arms and kisses my lips. I don’t ask what he’s thinking. I just want to believe I have control over the one thing that still belongs to me.
I see us clearly now. Two broken souls who want to be loved. Lost souls craving acceptance.
“I am who I am,” he says.
“I know, Irvin,” I whisper. “I know.”