"Everything in my life does," I objected.
"Why?"
"Because I don't need another mess to clean up," I snapped, feeling my eyes sting with the threat of tears and knowing I had to get out of there.
Maybe picking up on something in my tone, or maybe seeing the unshed tears, Byron's face softened a little as he moved off the bed, taking a step toward me and pausing when I took a step back. "Alright. Maybe you are tired. It was a weird night. Go get some rest." Given permission, though wholly unsure why I felt like I needed such a thing, I turned and started toward the door, only to be stopped again by his voice. "Prue," he called, making me freeze and it took a lot of self-control to not turn. And maybe run toward him. "Just saying, if you're still in this mood tomorrow, we're gonna have problems."
"We have nothing but problems," I said, but so low, so under my breath that there was no way he heard me.
I let myself into my room and sank back against my door for a long moment.
Because I was right.
We had nothing but problems.
Not the least of them being I was hopelessly in love with someone who could never and would never love me back, someone I would have to walk away from sooner rather than later, and in doing so, leave parts of myself bloodied and strewn all over his perfect little life, a life that would never welcome any part of me, sure to sweep, mop, and bleach me away like I had never existed at all.
And that was the worst part of the ordeal.
For me, nothing could ever erase him. Not just because I cared for him, but because I was grateful to him. He forced me out of my comfort zone. He made me acknowledge parts of myself I had ignored or hadn't even realized were a part of me. He helped me get my father into rehab, something I had tried to do for years unsuccessfully. He saw an untapped potential and he dusted it off and put it to work, boosting my confidence in the process. He made me a better version of myself.
I owed him for that.
And because of that debt, I would never forget him.
But, for him, I was just one of many.
Utterly forgettable.
Which made loving him all the worse.FOURTEENPrueI woke up to my alarm bleeping out, shrill and insistent, from across the room. On an unapologetically loud grumble, I rolled over, throwing the blankets off my body and trying to force my eyes to open.
But then the bleeping stopped.
My eyes snapped open to find Byron turning away from the alarm, wearing nothing but black sleep pants slung low on his waist, but looking wide awake. His hair was endearingly bed-messy and I felt my heart swell a little at getting to see him so uncharacteristically unkempt.
"We have nothing but problems?" he asked, brow raising as he made his way to the side of my bed.
I reached up to self-consciously rub the sleep from my eyes and flatten my sure-to-be messy hair. "What?" I asked, knowing damn well what he was asking. Apparently Byron, among his many other annoying talents, also had super-hearing.
He sat down by my hip, looking down at me. "Don't," he said, bossy as ever, but the words landed soft. "What problems do we have?"
"Byron I..." I shook my head a little, struggling with letting it all out or not.
But the night before, tossing and turning in bed, I had decided I wasn't going to be that girl. I wasn't going to be the heartsick girl pining after the man who couldn't, and wouldn't, return her feelings. I wasn't going to sit around and think 'what if' and 'maybe'. I wasn't going to create giant, grand, romantic possibilities in my head. Because, regardless of the woman I was becoming, I was nothing if not prudent. I wasn't going to open myself up to any more hurt than necessary. I was going to take whatever Byron gave me because, one, I couldn't see myself standing a chance at resisting him, and two, because I wanted to give that to myself.
"Babe, what?" he asked, sounding a bit frustrated, but like he was trying to keep it under control.
"I don't want to talk about that," I admitted because it was the truth.
I noticed him biting on the inside of his cheek, trying to decide what he was going to say or do. Ultimately, he threw off my blankets, smiling a little to find me in a Disney tee and silly superwoman panties, and nothing else. Then he nudged me slightly and moved to stretch out beside me, rolling me onto my side, facing away from him so that my back was against his chest. His legs cocked up beneath mine and his arm went around my belly. His face nuzzled into my neck and he planted a kiss beneath my ear.