“Babe.”
“I can’t. It hurts so bad, I just can’t.”
“I swear to you,” I beg because that’s all I have at this point. “I will never hurt you again.”
“But you swore you wouldn’t hurt me before and you did.”
Lowering my head to look her in the eyes straight on, I affirm, “I love you. God, I love you so much,” as I move in, holding her face in my hands, and gently graze my lips across hers, tasting the sweetest thing I’ve ever had.
“I’m moving,” she breathes against my lips, and her words echo in my head. A painful reality that I knew would come, but to have it here when I finally have her, is something I don’t want to face.
I shift back to look at her, not wanting to accept her words, when she says, “I got a job. I’m moving to New York in two weeks.”
Dropping my head, I feel the panic in me. The finality of this has never been more tangible than it is right now, and it’s a sharp blade in my heart. A slow bleed that bears the agony of an unrelenting suffering.
“You can’t kiss me,” she says as a new slew of tears starts. “If you do . . . I’ll never want to leave you.”
“Then I’ll come with you.”
“Ryan . . . I just can’t. I’m too scared you’ll hurt me again. I just need to be on my own. I’ve been working so hard to pull myself out of the hell I’ve been living in.”
“I know you have. I ask Jase about you all the time. He’s told me how well you’re doing. I just wish I could be around to see it, babe,” I choke out around the knot in my throat that I can no longer fight as I drop my head and cry. Cry for what we once had. We were so good and happy. Completely in love and bound together in a way I never thought two people could be. But we were, and I don’t think something like that comes around too often.
“All I ever wanted was for you to be okay, to be happy,” I tell her.
“I’m okay.”
She lets me hold on to her, so I do. Scared to let go of her because I know what it means when I finally do, and it’s a pain I’m not ready to feel. So I let time pass as I keep her tucked into me, her head nestled in the curve of my neck, the feel of her damp hair against my skin, the smell of her soft scent that filters into my lungs . . . my senses consumed with her, and then comes sound as she finally speaks.
“Do you think you could drive me home?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, wondering how you say goodbye to someone like her. But I find happiness in one thing, and that is, after all we have been through and all the time that has passed, she ran to me for the comfort that she needed.
I let my tears fall as I drive her home, and with each glance over, I see her own stained face. My gut is in knots, and with my eyes on the road ahead, I ask, as desperate as a man could, because I have nothing else, “Tell me how to fight for you.”
“Please,” is her only response, spoken softly, pleading for me not to push any more.
When I pull up to her house, I turn to her and ask, “Can I walk you in?”
“Ryan.”
Nodding my head, I get it. I see the pain in her eyes, but when she turns to grab the handle, I give her my last attempt to let her know, “I’ll never love anyone the way that I love you.”
She looks back at me, tears streaming, and she nods. Without words I hear what she’s telling me, and I hate that she’s denying us something we both know is great. She feels my words too, and having the knowledge that she feels the same way about loving me makes this all the worse. With the click of the handle, she steps out as I hear her crying begin to crack though, and the sound is excruciating.
And that’s it.
She’s gone.
Chapter Forty-four
“How is it that you’re so good with Bennett?” Traci asks me as I lay him down on the floor on his blanket.
“Because for the past five years my cousins have been pushing out babies,” I tell her.
Max returned to work this past week, and he wanted me to stop by and check on Traci. He told me she was freaking out about being alone with the baby, so I decided to bring my camera along to take some photos of Bennett for her.
“Can you turn off the light? I just need the natural light right now.”
“Yeah, sure,” she says as she flips the lights off.
The sun is shining today, making it perfect for these pictures. Bennett is asleep as I adjust him before bringing the camera to my eye and taking a few shots then moving him into a different pose.
“Thanks for doing this.”
“No problem. I wasn’t doing anything today, so I’m glad I have the distraction,” I tell her because I feel like I just went back in time a few months, and I’m feeling the loss of Candace all over again.
“Max is worried about you,” she says, and when I look up at her, I say, “Is that so?”
Tilting her head at me, she adds, “Yeah, that’s so.”
“Tell him I’m fine. Life is full of shit. It’s nothing that I’m not used to.”
“That’s a depressing outlook.”
Sitting back on my heels, I scan through the photos I just took as I say, “Not everybody gets what they want, Traci.”
“There’s probably someone else out there that you’re gonna want more; you just haven’t met her yet.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“Ryan,” Traci says to get my attention as she sits on the floor next to Bennett and me. “We’ve all lost someone we loved only to find that it wasn’t as deep of a love as we had thought when we finally find the one.”