Move the Stars (Something in the Way 3)

“I don’t want to send you back to her,” I said, “but I wouldn’t feel right making you come here. What if you get home, and . . .” It was too painful to form the words. Even thinking Tiffany’s name made my gut smart—both because of all the things he’d shared with her, but also because of how I was about to ruin her life, probably beyond repair. I pushed her out of my thoughts. “Never mind.”

He ran his hand down my face to pinch my chin, keeping my eyes tilted to him. “And what?”

“We’re having an affair, Manning.”

“I’m aware of that,” he said, “but I’m a little worried you aren’t.”

“I am.” I looked at his chest. “It’s just too hard to think about.”

“Do you think I’ll get home and want to stay? That I won’t come back? Because once I get on that plane Friday, I’ll be facing a shitstorm, and so will you. I need to know you trust me.”

I trusted him—didn’t I? I had the first day I’d met him, when I’d turned around and found my gold bracelet pooled in his palm. I’d given and given to him, even when he’d turned me away. Pushed me away. Forced me away. I supposed, though, my trust in him wasn’t complete. Not after what we’d been through.

“You’re quiet,” he said.

Manning had to be able to trust me, too, which was why I couldn’t tell him what he needed to hear, even though I wanted to. I would once I was certain beyond any doubt that he would come back to me. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” he said. “But there are two things you can trust me on, so can we start there?”

I raised my eyes back to his. “What are they?”

“I’m moving to New York. Don’t worry about how I’ll do it or whether I’ll like it. You’re going to show me around, and I’ll love it because—here’s the other thing you have to trust—I love you. Nothing matters more to me now than being where you are. I realize I’ve fucked up huge. I know I made mistakes. If you can tell me you believe that I love you, and if you can understand that nothing will keep me from coming to New York or wherever you are, then I’ll work my ass off to earn your trust back. And to be worthy of you, support you, make you happy. I can’t expect any of that without working for it, I just need you to understand those two things.”

“That you love me, and that you’re moving here.”

“Yes.”

For what felt like the hundredth time in days, I wanted to cry, but I sucked in a breath and focused on his words. Manning loved me. It wasn’t a shock to hear it, because I’d known it for so long. Maybe over the years I had doubted it or tried to convince myself otherwise, but I had always known. Certainly he’d known it, too, that he’d loved me, and me him, for a while.

I ignored the feeling that this, being in his arms and hearing these things, was too good to be true. We’d weathered the worst of the storm—now we got to live in the sun. There were hard times ahead, but it wasn’t too good to be true because we’d worked for it. We’d suffered and struggled and tried to stay away from each other and if none of that could keep us apart, then nothing ahead of us could, either.

“I understand,” I said. “I can’t just forgive it all because you’re finally here, but . . .”

He slipped his hand under my hair, warming the top of my spine. “I would never ask you to. If the roles were reversed, I don’t think I’d ever get over it. Not ever.”

If I thought too hard about it, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over it, either. Would that mean I could never forgive him? If the answer was no, would I get out of this bed right now? That was one answer I did know. Wild horses couldn’t tear me away from him tonight. These few days were about us and it was time we deserved. If I went too far down the path of our past, I’d risk ruining something I had begged, fought, and sweat for, so I pivoted in the opposite direction.

“What will you do when you get here?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. The good thing about construction is you can do it anywhere.”

“You won’t stay in sales?”

He blew out a sigh. “Depends. I will if it’s the first job I find. New York is expensive, and if I’m going to support us—”

“I’ve supported myself for this long,” I pointed out.

“There’s no scenario I can dream up in which I’m not working as hard as I can to keep you comfortable. It’s what I need as a man, no argument. I know you can support yourself. It makes me proud that you do. It’s important to me, though.”