A kiss meant to open his eyes. A name meant to open his heart. A shared place to see their true selves. An instinct that only love could yield, a truth that only love could impart, and finally...
God.
Oh God.
Her tears unlocked the last word on his list—
"Tomorrow," Kazeyuki heard himself say hoarsely. "Can we talk about all of this tomorrow? And if you still want to go—I won't stop you."
Because he loved her, and so what she wanted, he would want, too.
Even if it meant inhibiting his own desires, his own needs—
God, help me.
The sight of her still crying nearly ripped him apart, with how she had her arms wrapped around herself even more tightly, as if they were all that was holding herself together.
Help me, please.
Because he had already made up his mind.
Please.
Whatever she chose, he would choose.
Because he loved her.
Chapter Fourteen
TWO HOURS LATER, I'Mpacking, and I'm crying and crying because I know this isn't like me.
I may not have given him the words, but silence means yes, and so what I’m doing now...
I’m so, so sorry, God, but I just can’t.
I'm not the type to lie because I'm afraid.
I'm not the type to run away.
But I just can't...
I just can't risk giving myself a chance to be weak and start deceiving myself again.
So hurry, Kitty.
Hurry and just go before you humiliate yourself just like you did when you actually imagined someone like Dr. Collington would fall in love with you and even want to marry you—
I slam a door on the thoughts even as my body starts shaking with all the sobs crawling out of my throat. Every time I think of how I've made a fool of myself in front of Dr. Collington—in front of the entire hospital even because who knew, right? Who knew if they really believed me? What if they all knew that I pressured him into—
Stop it, Kitty! Just keep packing!
My hands are still shaking as I pull the zipper shut on a bag that's mostly just clothes shoved in wrong. The guest room—my room, the room that was supposed to bemine—looks the way rooms look when someone is leaving in a hurry. Drawers half open. Hangers on the bed. The closet door swinging on its hinge because I yanked it too hard.
Am I missing anything else? Is there something I haven’t yet packed? Or can I go now and never look—
Oh.
That’s when I see it, and the moment my gaze falls on the gift box at the nightstand, I’m so, so tempted to laugh and cry because I know.