Unbreak My Hart (The Notorious Harts 4)

My nerves increase exponentially. We keep walking and with every step I hope some form of clarity will come to me.

‘I was glad to see you tonight.’

Silence. We walk side by side for a while, and then his voice emerges, gravelly and deep. ‘I wasn’t sure you would be.’

‘Really?’

‘Sure. We didn’t exactly part on friendly terms.’

My chest squeezes.

‘So why did you come?’

‘Because I knew how huge this was for you.’ He shrugs. ‘I thought a familiar face might make it easier, and I figured if you didn’t want me there you could just tell me to go away.’

‘Right, like I did last time.’

‘Technically, you just told me not to call you, but yeah, more or less.’

I stop walking and close my eyes, wanting to blot the memories out and bring air into my lungs. I feel as though I’m drowning on dry land, right here in the middle of Noe Valley.

‘Barrett—’ When I open my eyes he’s watching me. That doesn’t help. ‘I’m sorry about that night.’ The stars twinkle overhead. He doesn’t move; it’s almost as though he’s not breathing. I search for what else I want to say, but then he gives a half-smile and turns, beginning to walk again.

‘It’s fine.’ His words come from over his shoulder. I move quickly to keep up. ‘I mean, you were pretty clear all along. I don’t know why I thought things had changed between us.’

He’s still ahead of me. I reach out, grabbing his wrist so he stops walking and turns to face me. ‘Because they had, Barrett. Everything had changed and I fought that so hard.’

His expression tightens. There’s wariness there, a look of confusion. ‘It doesn’t matter, right?’

Right. Because he doesn’t love me any more. I missed my opportunity. Except—he’s here. To support me. He didn’t say he came to make this easier for the Harts. He came for me. Why would he do that if he didn’t still care? And isn’t love supposed to be more robust than that? Barrett’s never met a woman that he fell in love with. Do I seriously think it would have evaporated at the first hurdle? Or is that just my attempt to throw excuses in my way so I don’t have to be brave and tell him that I love him too? Because maybe he doesn’t love me, but I think he still does, and unless I’m brave he’s not going to do anything about it.

This is all down to me.

‘I messed up.’ Jeez, it feels so good to say those words. ‘I mean, I really messed up.’

He stops walking again, and I see from his back that he’s drawing in a deep breath before turning to face me. ‘Yeah?’

Still there’s that wariness. Man, I need to get him to trust me. I need to—‘I’ve never known anyone like you. Even from that very first night you were so different, and fascinating, and you challenged me in every way. I have no idea what love is meant to look like. I’m not like you. I didn’t grow up with parents hugging on the sofa or whatever. I have no experience of this. I just know that seeing you became an obsession with me. I thought about you constantly—I think about you constantly—and the more entrenched you became in my DNA the more I wanted to send you away and get back to my “real” life because needing someone like I needed you is the antithesis of what I think of as safe.’

My words settle between us, sharp and urgent. He stares back at me, his mouth opening as his mind works to process the things I’ve said.

‘I wasn’t ready to admit that to myself, and I sure as hell didn’t know how to put it into words. That night, when you told me you loved me, I freaked out. I panicked and I did the one thing I know how to do really well—I pushed you away, just like you said. But if you don’t think I’ve spent every single minute of the last month and a half missing you like wildfire then you’re crazy. I love you, Barrett. I think I started falling in love with you the minute we met and I know I’ll never stop. I’m sorry I didn’t understand that, and I’m sorry I hurt you. Most of all I’m sorry that maybe you won’t want to trust me again, but if you’ll give me another chance I promise I won’t mess this up again.’

He continues to stare at me. Panic and pain writhe inside me. ‘I get why you’d—’

His finger presses to my lips, silencing me for a moment. I stand there, looking up at him, my eyes filled with all the hope I carry in my heart.

‘I love you,’ I say, muffled against his finger.

He keeps staring at me, and then he drops his hand, putting it on my shoulder.

‘These last six weeks have been the worst of my life and I have no idea why I haven’t called you but, seeing you tonight, everything slammed into me and I don’t want you to leave here without knowing how I feel.’ A frown pulls on my lips. ‘I don’t know how that works. You’re in London and I’m here but I want to make this work, somehow. If you want to.’

He makes a noise—a laugh? A groan? And then he’s kissing me, his lips crushing mine, his arms wrapping around me. Thoughts become impossible to hold onto. I surrender to this—the physicality of our togetherness, feeling everything, loving it, loving him, needing this. I know it’s complicated but I don’t care. We’ll work out complicated.

I pull away, just so I can look at him to make sure this isn’t a dream, and he smiles at me, a dazed ki

nd of smile, like he didn’t see this coming.