Chapter 19 #2
“No, you don’t!” he exploded, his voice hoarse with desperation.
“Stay here with me, Lexi. Let me help you work through this. You don’t have to have any contact with your screwed-up parents.
If your father comes anywhere near you, I’ll kill him.
And if you don’t want to deal with your mother, we’ll take out a restraining order against her. Hell, I’ll draft it myself!”
Her expression softened. “You can’t fix this for me, Quentin. Not this time.”
Raw emotion clawed at his throat. “What about us? Doesn’t our relationship matter to you?”
“Of course it does!” Her voice dropped from a shout to a pleading whisper. “You know how much you mean to me, Quentin.”
“Then don’t leave me!” he half commanded, half begged.
Tears glazed her dark eyes. “I need to do this. I have to do this. If you really love me—”
“If?” he thundered incredulously. “If? I’ve spent the past month—hell, the past twenty years—proving to you just how much I love you! Don’t you ever use the words if and love in the same breath when it comes to my feelings for you!”
She lifted a trembling hand to her mouth, rapidly blinking back tears.
As Quentin glared at her, he was struck by an unsettling new thought. “This isn’t just about your parents, is it?”
Lexi averted her gaze, saying nothing. But her silence spoke volumes.
Quentin took a small step toward her. “Are you having second thoughts about us?”
“No! Of course not.” But she wouldn’t look at him.
His tension mounted. “What’s going on, Lex? When I left town a week ago, everything was great between us. What’s changed?”
“Nothing. I just…” She trailed off with a helpless shake of her head.
“You just what?” Quentin prodded.
She exhaled a deep, shaky breath that ruffled her long bangs. “I don’t know if I’m…secure enough to be with someone like you.”
“Someone like me,” Quentin repeated with forced calm.
She nodded, chewing her lower lip. “A man who can have any woman he wants. A man who’s used to having any woman he wants.”
Quentin frowned. “Lex—”
“I don’t want to get hurt again, Quentin,” she whispered. “I don’t think I could survive it.”
His chest tightened. “I’m not going to hurt you, Lex,” he said with quiet urgency. “I love you. What more can I say or do to convince you of that?”
“I don’t know!” Her eyes were filled with anguished confusion. “And that’s part of the problem. You shouldn’t have to keep trying to convince me. I shouldn’t be wrestling with all these doubts about our relationship.”
“But you are,” Quentin stated flatly.
She swallowed hard, nostrils flaring as she fought back tears. “I just need time to get away and think…sort things out.”
“What’s there to sort out, Lex? Either you love me and want to be with me—or you don’t.”
She shot him a stricken look. “It’s not that simple!”
“Bullshit! It is that simple when two people genuinely love each other!” He took another step toward her. “So tell me, Alexis. Do you really love me?”
“Of course I do!” she cried out. “How can you even question that?”
“The same way you can question my commitment to this relationship!” Quentin fired back. “After everything we’ve been through, after everything we’ve overcome this past month alone, I can’t believe you still have doubts about whether I can be faithful to you!”
Guilt flared in her eyes before she glanced away, lips tightly compressed.
Quentin glowered at her, chest heaving up and down as he fought for composure.
He was so damn tempted to haul her into his arms, kiss her senseless, bear her down to the floor and make love to her until she surrendered to his demands.
But he didn’t want to seduce her into staying with him.
He wanted her to stay because she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she could trust him wholeheartedly.
He wanted her to stay because she knew she couldn’t live without him.
Just as he knew he couldn’t live without her.
“You’re running again,” he said softly.
“I’m not running!” But her voice broke in contradiction.
The small velvet box in his pocket was burning a hole through his clothes. But he didn’t pull it out. If she rejected his marriage proposal, it would kill him.
“Moment of truth,” he murmured, something they used to tell each other to prompt the other into making a difficult decision.
Lexi swallowed visibly. “Quentin—”
“Moment of truth!”
They stared each other down, the space between them charged with so much tension it was suffocating.
Finally she whispered, “I’m leaving. I have to.”
Quentin held her gaze a moment longer, then pivoted and strode from the living room.
She hurried after him. “Please understand, Quentin. Please—”
He paused at the front door, hand on the doorknob. “You know how you always used to tell me that one of these days I’d push you too far, and you wouldn’t forgive me?” He turned and pointed a finger at her. “If you do this to us—if you leave me—I’ll never forgive you.”
And with those devastating words vibrating in the air between them, he slammed out of the house, knowing he’d seen it—and possibly her—for the last time.