I knew that, but a week away had me forgetting it all, desperate for one more look, and I hated her for pointing out the truth.
Callum’s chair scooted back, screaming through the silent room flooding with tension. “I’ll take these to the sink.” He gathered a handful of plates and bolted, leaving Oaklyn, me, and this decision alone in a standoff.
“Olivia.” She tried to get my attention, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his messages.
Kent. Kent. Kent.
My heart beat in unison with his name, begging me to get up and run to him.
Tears stung my eyes because I knew I’d be letting her down. “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t not go. I love him.”
“Olivia,” she said again, harder, pulling my eyes to hers. “Don’t do this to yourselves.”
I knew I shouldn’t. I knew it. But it didn’t stop me from standing up and giving in.
“I’m sorry. Tell Cal, thanks for dinner.”
Her eyes slid closed but not before I saw the disappointment there.
They were the same feelings I had rushing over me too, but I shoved them down because I needed to see him.
Even if it was the last time, and we only said goodbye.
28 Kent
She had to come. She had to.
The minutes ticked by, and my belief that she’d show dwindled.
Maybe I was a fool to ask her to come—a fool setting myself up for more hurt. But I could hurt in her arms for a little while, at least. I could wrap her up and keep her mouth busy to fight off the truth. We could pretend, I just needed her to come.
Thirty-two minutes past the time I told her I’d be here, and still nothing. No messages. No beautiful, vibrant Olivia running through the door. Nothing but silence and the hard thump of my heart.
Then, the click of the door.
As if I held an electrical wire, my whole body zinged back to life. Watching her walk through the door, her mass of golden hair piled on top of her head, her eyes tired but smiling, flooded me with euphoria. I was lighter than I’d been since we’d last seen each other. I had to grip the back of the chair to make sure I didn’t float away.
We stared at each other across the small expanse of the room like we hadn’t seen each other in years.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
Twenty seconds.
I held my breath and counted, needing her to come to me.
Thirty seconds.
Then she was in my arms. A blur of motion colliding with me, locking in the other half to me I’d been searching years for. Burying my nose in her neck, I smelled her warm vanilla scent that mixed with the spice that was all her.
“I missed you,” she said against my skin.
“I missed you too.”
Missed didn’t begin to cover what I’d felt since we’d been apart. Craved, desired, yearned, needed. Nothing began to touch the heavy feeling that’d weighed me down.
But I hadn’t known what to do. Nothing had changed between us. She was still afraid of losing Daniel—and I was still unable to keep lying to my best friend, missing her more and more each day.
I hadn’t even known I was missing someone so vital in my life until she came and went. Now being without her, I was a half-empty shell.
I’d given her space, hoping she’d come to me. I was unaccustomed to chasing women and hadn’t really known where to start, so I did nothing.
In that time, I’d glued myself to Daniel when I could. Hoping he would fill the void—hoping the time I spent with him reminded me why I decided almost twenty years ago to never lie to him again—to never lie about who I was and what I wanted.
“What am I doing here, Kent?” she asked my chest. She’d yet to unwrap her arms from around me, and frankly, she could stay there forever for all I cared.
“I wanted to take you on a date.”
Her head tipped back, and damp blue eyes lifted to mine. A slow smile stretched her full lips, making me want to nibble at the lush bottom curve.
I returned her smile and gestured to the candle-lit table with roses and silver domes sitting in the corner. “It’s our spot.”
And just like that, the smile turned sad, our reality crashing in around us. The reality that we were nothing outside of this room. She swallowed a few times and dashed away the stray tear that broke free before pulling her shoulders back and lifting her regal chin.
No matter how much of a brave face she put on, nothing hid the crack in her soft proclamation. “I can’t do this to you. I love you, Kent.” Another tear fell, and she didn’t bother to wipe it away. “I want you. You know I do, but I can’t tell him. He’s all I’ve had for so long, and I don’t know who I am without him believing in me.”