Chapter 42 #2
“Alright…” I shift my gaze away from hers, landing it on her temple because even though she said it, I know.
I know how this is going to go and I can’t look at her when it all falls apart.
“I’m in love with you, Mills,” I confess quietly.
“You want to know why I pay attention? Why I like fucking with you? It’s because I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you and I don’t know how else to make you see me. I don’t—”
“I saw you.” She whispers it, cutting me off with a confession of her own, the accusation in it undeniable. “I saw you, Dean.”
“What?” I shift my gaze to meet hers, my gut clenching hard enough to make me dizzy when I catch the unmistakable sheen of unshed tears.
My brain starts to scramble, searching for something that would make sense of what she’s saying.
“The other night—at the bar? I didn’t sleep with her.
I saw you but even before that, I knew I couldn’t—”
”No.” She shakes her head, the set of her mouth going flat and angry. “That night.”
When she says it, alarm bells start ringing, the loud clang of them telling me that this is a fight I won’t win. That this is it. Whatever happens next, the lies Millie and I have been hiding behind are gone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do…” she says, giving me a short, humorless laugh.
“That night in the Hamptons. After you left my room, I lied awake for hours, listening to everyone…” Like the memory makes it impossible to look at me, she looks away.
“I finally worked up the courage to go looking for you after Gwen and her friends went upstairs to sleep it off. I wanted to explain—about Allister. I knew you heard what Paige said and I wanted you to know that we’d only been on a few dates.
That it wasn’t nearly as serious as she made it sound.
” Forcing her gaze back to mine, it wavers for a moment like she’s fighting to keep herself from looking away again.
“I knew you didn’t care.” Her voice breaks, the jagged edge of it nearly sharp enough to cut me open. “Not really, but I just…”
“You’re wrong.” Brow furrowed, I shake my head, desperate to make her hear me. “I cared. I’ve always cared. I—”
“I heard you in the living room,” she cuts me off.
“I was going to march right up to you and explain, but…” Shaking her head, she swallows hard before pushing the rest of it out of her mouth.
“I saw you and Paige. I watched you kiss her. You picked her up and carried her to the couch so I didn’t see the rest but I heard her.
” One of those unshed tears breaks free to slip down the side of her face.
“I went back to my room but I could still hear her so I packed my things and I left. The next time I saw you was at Gwen’s wedding. You were Paige’s date.”
For a second, all I can do is stare at her because it’s bad. So much worse than I thought it was. “Mills…” I feel my face fall into a scowl because I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to make this better. How to make her listen. “Please, just—”
“So, you’re right.” She twists the wrist I still have pinned in my grip, above her head. “I don’t believe you.”
Even though I knew it was coming, hearing her say it is still a punch in the gut. “Mill—”
“Let me up,” she demands quietly, her tone flat and final.
“Shit—” Letting out a shaky breath, I loosen my grip. “just listen to me, okay?” Even though I know I don’t have a choice, I can’t make myself let go of her completely because I know the second I do, she’s going to fight me and this is a fight I can’t win. “Please, just—”
“Get off me, right fucking now.” Tearing her wrist from my grip, she plants her hand on my chest and shoves, and instead of fighting her, I let her go.
Bolting upward, she’s in such a hurry to get away from me that she barely misses clipping my chin with the top of her head.
Scrambling across the bed, she nearly loses her feet when they hit the floor and I lunge forward again, this time to catch her but she rips her arm out of my grip, stumbling back, out of reach.
Swaying on wobbly legs, she glares at me and shakes her head.
“It’s not a big deal, remember?” she reminds me, her tone nearly as heartbroken and desperate as I feel while she snatches a bathrobe one of us tossed on the bench at the foot of the bed.
“That’s what you keep saying, right? It’s not a big deal—” Flicking me a quick look, she shoves her arms into the sleeves.
“nothing that’s happened between us is a big deal.
” When she says it, I feel a lump start to swell in my throat, so cold and bitter it almost chokes me.
All I can do is sit here and watch her struggle while she fights to get away from me and the lies I’ve been feeding her since the day we met.
“Not if we don’t want it to be and I don’t.
” Looking down, she hastily ties the belt in place.
“I don’t want it to be a big deal and neither do you, right?
” Looking up again, she meets my gaze and it takes everything I have to stay where I am.
To stop fighting. To let it be over. To let her go. “Right?”
“Sure.” I finally answer her, forcing the corner of my mouth into the same shitty, asshole smirk I’ve given her a thousand times. “Whatever you say, Princess.”
When I say it, she makes a watery choking sound. “And you don’t love me.”
The smirk I’m hiding behind sharpens. “I don’t?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “You don’t—you’re just using me. Just like Allister. Just like Paige.”
Now she sounds like she’s drowning, right alongside me and even though I know it makes me an asshole, I can’t help but feel like she deserves it, just as much as I do. “I think we used each other, don’t you?”
“You’re right. We did.” Giving me a nod, she gives up. “And I don’t want to play anymore either.”
Turning, she walks away from me, her unsteady gait threatening to pitch her into the wall, on her way to the bathroom.
Crossing the threshold, she hits the privacy switch and disappears from view completely.
A few seconds later, the tub is turned on, the loud rush of water layering itself over the sound of Millie crying.
I force myself to sit here and listen as punishment for what I did, every hard, hitching sob like a fucking knife to the chest because I knew this was going to happen. I knew it. I knew how this was going to end. I knew that she’d never let herself believe me.
Millie’s smarter than that.
She always has been.