“No.” His voice was stern, and he wouldn’t make eye contact with me.
“I want it like you love me.”
“Elizabeth—”
“You can do it hard, if you want.”
“Stop.”
“Look at me, Tristan.”
“No.”
“Why not?” I asked, walking close to him as he turned his back to me. “Don’t you want me?”
“You know the answer to that.”
I shook my head. “You don’t think I’m beautiful? Am I not as pretty as her? Am I not as good as—”
He shot around and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Don’t do this, Elizabeth.”
“Fuck me, please…” I cried, running my fingers against his chest. “Please make love to me.”
“I can’t.”
I hit his chest. “Why not?!” I cried, my vision becoming blurry. “Why not?! I let you touch me when you wanted her. I let you screw me when you needed it. I let you…” My words faded off, becoming sobs. “I let you… Why not…”
He grabbed my fists, stopping me from pounding all my anger against his chest. “Because, you’re broken. You’re extremely broken tonight.”
“Just make love to me.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because, I can’t.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yes, it is,” he said.
“No, it’s not. Stop being a coward. Just tell me why not. Why the hell not?!”
“Because I’m not him!” he shouted, my body shaking in his grip. “I’m not Steven, Elizabeth. I’m not what you want.”
“You can be, though. You can be him.”
“No,” he said, sternly. “I can’t.”
I shoved him. “I hate you!” I shouted, my throat burning as tears fell against my lips. “I hate you!” But I wasn’t talking to Tristan. “I hate you for leaving me! I hate you for leaving me. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.” I lost myself in Tristan’s arms.
I fell apart in a way I’d never experienced in my life.
I shook, I screamed, and a part of me died.
But Tristan held me, making sure not all of my soul disappeared that night.
Chapter Eighteen