Chapter 23
CAROLINE
There’s nothing but a strange numbness in my chest, which should surprise me given how much I’ve supported my father my entire life.
But there’s also relief in knowing this campaign is finally over—and that he won’t be holding a higher position of power, especially after what he did to Miles tonight.
The truth is, my dad doesn’t deserve the role.
Doesn’t deserve the public’s support. Or mine.
Miles shuts down for the rest of the drive home, like Adrian’s call interrupting us gave him the chance to think better of what he seemed on the verge of saying. He texts back and forth with his sponsor while I drive, and I’m grateful he has someone who understands the temptation he just faced.
But, the longer neither of us speaks, the more my anxiety prickles and an all-too-familiar coil of dread squeezes my heart. Growing up, tense silences always meant I’d done something wrong.
I’d felt the beginnings of it in the gallery earlier today.
Rationally, I know I’m losing him, but my heart can’t take the emotional withdrawal.
Not from Miles. He’s never once made me feel alone, ignored, or abandoned, and I can’t stomach the grief I already feel creeping in.
There’s a cruel loneliness in finally being seen only to have it ripped away.
It’s like being stabbed with a barbed spear—it does more damage on the way out than on the way in.
I pull into my driveway and park a few feet from Miles’ truck. I try to catch his eye but the blue glow from the dashboard lights his cheek as he turns away from me to step out into the night.
Heart sinking, I climb out of the car, tugging my jacket tight around me.
The night is cold but clear, the nearly full moon casting a cool glow all around us.
We meet behind my car, stopping short of falling into each other like we’re trying to get used to something about as natural as trying not to breathe.
I let my unfocused gaze settle on the center of his chest.
“Well,” he says, rocking on his heels as he swings his arms in front of him, “it’s been a slice.”
My head snaps up as he turns toward his truck. “Miles!”
He spins back to me, his smile teasing but laced with pain. “C’mon. Did you think I would really just walk away?” As he shakes his head and closes the distance between us, the moonlight catches the way his eyes have welled up. “Fuckin’ c’mere.”
I can’t pull him against me fast enough—squeeze him tight enough—and I bury my face in his coat to silence my inadvertent sob.
“I dunno how to do this goodbye thing.” His voice is a familiar deep rumble against my cheek, even through his thick jacket. He sniffs back his emotion. “Can I be a selfish prick for a sec?”
I lift my pinched face, and he thumbs a tear from my cheek.
“I wish…” He swallows and tries again. “Look, I have no right to say this to you. But I wish this wasn’t it. Wasn’t goodbye.”
I close my eyes. “Me too.”
The words are barely a whisper, and I nearly crumple against him when he takes my face in his hands. And then his lips are on mine.
I can’t tell what’s breaking my heart more—the kiss or the gentle way he’s holding me.
Don’t leave me. Please.
I never want it to end. Never want to let go. But I know, despite every fiber of my being trying to find some way to ask him to stay, I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk his job, his sobriety—his life—by asking for more of him than he can give.
When our lips part, his regret is potent. “Can’t believe I don’t get to see you again.”
“Maybe we’ll cross paths?” The prospect sounds pathetic the moment the words leave my mouth, and I wipe at my wet cheeks. “God, is that the best we can hope for, if we can’t even stay friends?”
“I don’t think I could ever just be friends with you.” The creases in his brow deepen, and he cradles my jaw, brushing a thumb over my cheek. “Wouldn’t know how.”
I drop my head, feeling like the pain is pulling me into the ground.
“And I fucking hate this, too, okay?” he adds.
My ribs squeeze at his words, but I force a nod.
“Caroline.” He lifts my face, but I can’t look him in the eye. “You need to know… Fuck, if I could do this—for real, I mean—”
“Stop. Don’t say any more, okay?” I shake my head, trying to fight off a fresh wave of tears. I reach for his face, willing time to stop yet resigned to having no such power.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, dropping his forehead to mine. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“For what?”
“Sorry I’m not better. Not ready. Not good enough for you.”
“Miles, no… You’re everything I—”
“No.” He pulls back, his brow pinched in pain. “Your dad… As much as I fucking hate it, he’s right. You deserve so much more than this broken mess.”
“You’re not broken,” I plead, gripping handfuls of his coat. “God, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”
“No, baby… I’m too fucked up.”
Breath rushes out of me. “Aren’t we all?”
“Not like this.” He inhales like he’s trying to steady himself. “Fuck, I wish I was better enough to do this right. But just look what happened earlier. I’m not… I don’t deserve you, Caroline, I’m—”
“Stop! I love you!” The words tear from my chest, hollowing me out. “I love you.” I say it again, quieter this time, searching his face.
A puff of warm air clouds the small space between us before his mouth meets mine, the taste of salt slipping between our lips. Whether the tears are his or mine, I don’t know, and I couldn’t care less. Because this kiss cracks me in half. And it’s anything but a clean break.
I finally pull away, kissing his cheeks, his jaw, the cleft in his chin. I can’t seem to wean myself from his skin as I command my heart to accept what it never will—that I love him and I can’t have him.
“Caroline…” The way he whispers my name as he pushes his fingers into my hair threatens to destroy me. I touch his lips, shaking my head.
I don’t need him to say it back. And, if he did, I might not be able to do what I need to do.
“I know I told you I didn’t want a relationship.
And, yeah, what I want changed, but I’m not asking you for one, okay?
Because I meant what I said. Back at the arcade.
” I swipe at my wet cheeks. “I could never forgive myself if I hurt you. If I compromised your recovery. And I’ve come close enough as it is. Twice now.”
“No,” he says, the word not much more than a whisper. “It wasn’t you. It was never you.”
I’m not sure I believe him. It was being in my orbit, after all, that brought him so close to breaking.
And if I’d broken him…
I can’t keep doing this to him. Can’t keep dragging him into temptation.
“I wish loving you was enough.” My voice wavers, and I fight to keep it steady. “I wish I was enough.”
“God, don’t say that. You’re fucking amazing.”
“I’m not fishing for compliments.” I touch his face again. “I just mean, this isn’t the movies. Love doesn’t fix everything. Cure everything.”
“It’s really fucking annoying that it doesn’t.”
A watery laugh burbles out of me and I kiss him again. “Super fucking annoying.”
He grins that crinkly-eyed grin I love so much and I try to memorize it. Memorize him. The earthy, intoxicating way he smells. That scar at the corner of his mouth. The way he can make me laugh, cry, and melt all in the same moment. He’s perfect.
“You were clear from that first night you couldn’t do this.”
He nods, looking thoughtful. “Almost like I had a feeling this gorgeous fancy girl was gonna trick me into falling for her or something.”
“Is that what I did? Trick you?”
“Definitely. I was minding my own business until you showed up. And then you were all like, be my fake boyfriend!” He does air quotes, pulling a face. “It’ll just be for one night!”
I can’t help but laugh—as blurry, tearful, and heartbroken as I am.
“See? Trickery.” He cocks an eyebrow, sliding a hand down his chest. “And don’t get me started on how you took advantage of my body— Hey!” He steps back when I poke his stomach.
“You offered me your body, may I remind you.”
“Oh, right.” His smile is lopsided as he tugs me back against him. “I did that. God,” he sighs, looking thoughtful, “I’m a little bit slutty.”
I sniff. “In the best way.”
“Obviously.”
“Thank you,” I say, my voice quieter than before, although I can’t help the way my lips twitch when I add, “for being my sex sensei.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmurs against my forehead. “Sorry we didn’t finish everything on your list, though… but, y’know, not a bad gig, in the end.”
The end.
The reminder that we’re delaying the inevitable makes me feel colder than seconds ago and my amusement fades. I tug up the collar of my coat against the chilly night air.
“I should go.” Miles hooks a finger under my chin and lifts my face. His kiss is lingering. Apologetic.
Like they never stopped, hot tears stream down my cheeks once more, cooling quickly in the night air.
I scramble to pull him closer, not wanting to let go.
When we finally break apart, I step back, forcing some distance between us that feels like fighting gravity.
“You’re never gonna get out of here if we keep—”
“Okay, okay,” he says, squeezing my hands and pressing his lips to my forehead one last time before heading to his truck. He’s just opening the door when I call out to him.
“Miles.”
He turns.
“I love you.”
My words hang between us for a long moment. Maybe I do need to hear him say it back.
Moonlight catches on a tear slipping down his cheek. “Love you, too, fancy girl.”