“That’s the point. It did scare me. But it doesn’t now. I’ve had time to think things over, and I talked with Coach. He helped slap some sense into me.”
“Literally?”
“No.”
“Shame.”
“Dillon, when we started out, I said that I would never lie to you. But I did—the moment that I told you that we had to end. I didn’t want that. But I thought it was the only option. I knew then that I had feelings for you, but I told myself that I was no good for you. That I couldn’t be the man you deserved. I’m not good at this stuff. I’ve never even had a relationship. You were my first.”
He’s acknowledging that what we had was a relationship. That’s a start. It also helps to melt some of the ice in my chest.
“This isn’t an excuse, but my dad cheated on my mother throughout the course of their marriage, and I saw what it did to her. It broke her down piece by piece until there was nothing left. I know this isn’t rational, but at one point, I even thought that her tumor came from the stress he’d put on her in their marriage.”
“Why didn’t she ever leave?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Love maybe. Dependency. I never asked her. All I knew was that I would never become the man my father was even if that meant not having a relationship to avoid hurting someone. With you, I knew I’d eventually do whatever was necessary to push you from my life, even knowing it would hurt us both.”
“You’re not your dad.” I lower my voice.
“You’re not your mom, but it doesn’t stop you from worrying that you could be.”
He’s got me there. No matter how much I try and tell myself that I’m nothing like her, that I never will be, that fear is always there, lingering. What if I turn into her without even realizing, and then once I’m there, it’s too late to turn back and undo the damage?
“So, what’s changed? What’s different now?”
“I can’t live without you. I tried for two weeks, and it fucking sucks. I can’t function. I barely sleep. My game is shit. I’m just shit without you.”
I look down at the table and scratch my nail over the wood. “And what is it that you want from me?”
“A chance. Just like you gave me … well, my character in the book when he fucked up toward the end.”
My eyes flick to his. “You read it all?”
“Yeah. It’s really fucking good, Dillon. I don’t know much about romance, but I know ours was really fucking epic. Until I messed it up.”
I press my lips together. “I don’t know.”
“Please, Dillon. I’m not above begging. If I have to get down on my knees here and make a total ass of myself, I will.”
He starts to slide off his chair, but I grab his arm, stopping him.
“That won’t be necessary,” I hiss.
“So, you forgive me?” His eyes light up.
I feel that ache in my chest again. “I forgive you. But …”
“Don’t but me.”
“West, when you broke up with me, it gutted me, but after being home a while and thinking over things …” I let out a sad sigh. “We would have broken up at some point anyway. I live here, and your life is in America. Long distance never works. Not long-term.”
“If I could stay here with you, I would. But my job is in America.”
“You’d live in Hull?”
I’m shocked, but also I just couldn’t see West here. The thought of him living in my little corner of the world makes me want to laugh. Everything about him is too … big for Hull. And I’m pretty sure his dad would have a coronary if his son lived here.
“If I could.” He reaches his hand over the table and takes hold of mine, and I let him. The feel of his skin on mine is everything that I’ve been missing. “Dillon, do you love me?”
Do I love him?
Is the sky blue? Do birds sing in the morning?
“Yes,” I whisper. “I love you.”
Relief covers his face. It’s crazy to me that he even considered that I might not.
“Then, come back to America with me.”
“I can’t. I just got this job. I can’t just quit and come to the States with you.”
“Why not?”
“Because … well, because eventually, I would have to come back home. I can’t stay in America forever. I only get a limited time there, and I can’t quit this job because I’d have to come back here and then get another, meaning—”
“Dillon.” He leans over the table and presses his lips to mine.
He kisses me, and everything just disappears. All the hurt I felt, the anger, and the disappointment. Nothing seems to matter anymore now that he’s here and kissing me.
“Sorry,” he whispers, moving back. “But I couldn’t wait any longer to kiss you.”