Chapter 13 #2
"I shut down after the funeral. I stopped feeling anything because it meant remembering exactly what I had lost. I felt like I had failed to protect her.
" He took a shaky, uneven breath. "I’ve been numb for such a long time that feeling anything at all is overwhelming.
And the way I feel about you is more than I can handle. "
"Riven—"
"You want to know why I avoid you?" He let out a hollow laugh. "Because when I look at you, I remember what it feels like to be human. And I don't know if I can survive being human again."
Those words gutted me.
"Every morning when you're in the kitchen, I want to stay and sit with you.
I want to talk about nothing important and pretend I'm the kind of man who deserves a life like that.
" His voice dropped even lower. "Every time I hear you laughing with Emma, I want to be part of that joy.
I want to stop standing in the shadows of doorways watching my life happen without me. "
"Then why don't you just step into the room?"
"Because I’m a coward," he said, his honesty cutting through the air. "Because letting you in means I might lose you. And I’ve already lost every person I’ve ever dared to risk my heart for."
"So you'd rather lose me by pushing me away?"
"At least if I push you away, I can see the end coming."
The logic was heartbreaking. "That’s not how life works, Riven. You don't get to protect yourself from grief by refusing to actually live."
"I know," he whispered.
"You don't get to keep me away and then act surprised when I finally decide to leave."
"I know."
"You don't…" My voice broke. "You don't get to look at me like you're drowning and then refuse to reach for my hand."
He closed his eyes tightly. "I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to reach for someone or how to want something without waiting for it to vanish. I don’t know how to love a person without mapping out all the ways they could be taken from me."
The word "love" vibrated between us.
"I'm so incredibly tired," he continued, leaning his head back.
"I'm tired of being careful and protecting myself from something that has already happened.
I'm tired of pretending I don't wake up thinking about you every single day.
I spend every moment wondering what you're feeling and if you think about me even half as much as I think about you. "
Tears spilled over my cheeks. "I do think about you that much."
"Then why are you leaving?"
"Because staying in your house is destroying me." The words tore out. "I can't keep wanting you from a distance. I want everything—your mornings, your nights, your bad moods, your rare smiles, every quiet moment."
His eyes flew open and found mine. "You…want me?"
"And I'm so angry you made me say it first," I sobbed.
"Mireya—"
"I want you, even though you push me away and you make it nearly impossible to reach you." My hands were shaking uncontrollably. "I want you, and it’s the most painful thing I've ever felt because you don't want me. Not really."
"That’s the furthest thing from the truth," he said.
"Is it? You have spent an entire month making sure you weren't near me."
"Because being near you and not being allowed to touch you was torture.
" He crossed the remaining distance between us in two strides.
"Every time you smiled at Emma, I wanted that smile for myself.
Every time you fell asleep on the sofa, I wanted to carry you to your bed and stay there with you.
Every time you say my name, I wanted to hear it in ways I had no right to dream about. "
I gasped, my heart twisting like it had forgotten how to beat.
"I’ve been in love with you for a while now, I don’t even know when it started.
You made my house feel like a home." He took another step until he was inches away.
"I love you, and it terrifies me to my core.
Because loving you means I could lose you, and that would break the parts of me I've worked so hard to keep numb. "
"Then stop losing me," I whispered. "Stop pushing me away."
"What if I'm not what you need? What if I fail you?"
"What if you don't?"
"What if I mess everything up and hurt you? What if—"
"What if we're brave enough to find out together?"
He stopped talking. He was so close that I could inhale his natural scent. I could feel the heat radiating from his body and see the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
"I don't know how to love someone without being afraid of the end," he admitted.
"Then go ahead and be afraid. Just don't let the fear stop you from trying with me."
"I’ll probably fail at this. I might pull away or forget how to be what you need."
"Then I’ll be the one to remind you."
"You make it all sound so simple."
"It's simple, Riven. You just have to choose me every single day. Even when it’s scary or hard. Even when your instincts tell you to run back into the dark." I reached up and touched his face. "Just choose me. That’s all I'm asking for."
His hand covered mine, pressing my palm to his cheek. "What if choosing you means I lose you anyway?"
"What if not choosing me means you lose me right now?"
He stared at me for a long moment, something shifting and rearranging behind his eyes as his walls finally crumbled.
"I’m going to kiss you now," he stated.
"Okay," I whispered.
"If I start, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop."
"Then don't stop."
He leaned down, and his lips finally found mine.
I pressed closer into him, my hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt as my body arched toward his warmth. He let out a low, rough sound, and his arms wrapped tightly around me.
One of his hands slid into my hair while the other pressed firmly against the small of my back. The kiss deepened instantly, turning hungry and desperate.
His tongue swept against mine, and I gasped into the kiss. We stumbled backward until my back hit the wall, his arms caging me and his strong body pressing against mine. I could feel his heart racing against my own and taste the faint hint of whiskey on his breath.
This was real. This connection between us was finally happening.
I moaned into his mouth. “I’m not going anywhere. I just want to be with you.”
"I've wanted you to stay since the first day," he replied, lips trailing along my jaw. "I just didn't know how to ask."
I wrapped my arms around his neck, chasing his warmth. "You don't have to ask. I'm choosing this. I'm choosing you."
His mouth found mine again, and everything else fell away—the conference, the uncertainty, the fear.
Just us, finally choosing each other.