Words sank into my stomach, leaving me mute—giving him the opportunity to sneak closer.
I scrambled backward, stupidly slamming against a wall.
He caged me in, hands landing by my ears with a thud. “I love you, Hope. I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. I was just too fucking afraid to admit it.”
I couldn’t breathe.
Why was he doing this? Why was he determined to be so awfully cruel?
Tears pricked my eyes as I tried to look away but couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Eternally sorry for all that I put you through.”
Tinder sparked, setting fire to my blood. “Don’t you dare apologise. I don’t want your apology.”
“But you need to hear it. You need to hear everything that I’m saying. You need to believe me when I say I’m never leaving you again.”
“That’s because I’m the one who’s walking away this time.”
He chuckled, staring at my cast. “You won’t be walking anywhere for a while.”
“You know what I mean.” I glowered.
“I know what you mean.” He nodded. “But I hope you don’t.”
“Why? Why this sudden change of heart? You could’ve kept me forever. We could’ve started a life together the moment we slept together in Bali. But you didn’t want me then, and you don’t want me now. Do you feel guilty all of a sudden? Do you feel like you owe me?” I breathed hard. “I’m sorry about your grandfather, I truly am. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him when I first found you. Perhaps if I had, you would’ve been home in time to say goodbye. I’m sorry for all of it, but I can’t be what you want because you don’t even know what that is.”
“I do know what I want. It’s you.” His nose kissed mine. “I know I ruined what happened between us. I know I hurt you by leaving. But you have to know what that night meant to me. I’m sure you guessed I was a virgin. And I would’ve stayed one until my dying day if I didn’t want you more than my own sanity.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“It’s supposed to show you how much I love you. How much I need you.” He leaned against me, wedging his hips into mine. The piece of him I’d only touched briefly steadily hardened the longer we stayed pressed together. “Can’t you feel that, Hope? Can’t you see how much I mean it when I say I love—”
“Argh!” I ducked under his arm, shoving him away from me. My crutches smashed to the ground, leaving me to scuttle along the wall for balance. “Enough. Okay? Enough.”
“Why? Because I’m finally getting through to you? Finally making you believe?”
“You’re driving me crazy.”
“Good. You drive me crazy all the damn time.”
“You’re impossible.”
“No, I’m in love. Big difference.” He followed me, step for step. His bedroom offered salvation. If I could throw myself inside and lock the door, I could be free of this madness.
I could sit and weep and wait for my father to take me away like he did when I was younger. I could place my problems in some other person’s control so I didn’t have to suffer.
I wanted to believe Jacob so, so much.
I wanted to let down my walls and open my arms to him.
I wanted to smile and cry and tell him he’d won.
That I loved him too.
I always would.
But I couldn’t because I knew what would happen.
He believed he’d changed.
I believed he couldn’t.
The fear that he would forever be the boy who’d spent the past eleven years pushing me away was too painful to ignore.
I would end up being the Michael of the relationship—the victim instead of the villain. I’d made Michael believe we were equals. That his heart bought my heart and our togetherness was on mutual grounds.
He hadn’t known my true thoughts. He never guessed my love for him wasn’t like the love he had for me.
I’d been a terrible, terrible person. I deserved to love someone more than they loved me because that was the punishment required, but then again, I’d already lived that sentence. Most of my life, I’d lived it, and I didn’t want to live it anymore.
My shoulders fell, and I stopped trying to inch away. “I know you think you love me, Jacob, but you don’t. Not really.”
“Don’t tell me what I do or don’t feel, Hope.”
“Well, don’t ask me to believe in fantasises.”
“You’re really starting to get on my nerves.” His eyes tightened. “I lived through your death. I know what it feels like to lose you. Truly, truly lose you. And if you think you’re going to take away my right to love you—after I’ve been through that agony—then you don’t know me very well.”
“I know you plenty. I know you too well. That’s why I’m saying—”