“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sofuckingsorry,” I mutter, my voice rough, and heart pounding. “I’m so sorry I lied.”
Her face shutters closed, and I see her building her walls up high. “I’m aware,” she says, her tone clipped.
I grab her soft hands, loaning whatever strength I can. “No, no. You don’t understand.” I shake my head, my words causing her brows to draw together, waiting. “I lied aboutnotwanting you, baby.”
“I don’t understand.Youwere the one who broke up withme.” Hurt and accusation sharpen her words. She tries to pull away, but I hold on tighter, terrified that if I let go now, she might not come back.
“Not because I wanted to. But because I had to!” My voice rises before I force it down, dragging in a breath. “Do you remember the day we ran into Henry?”
“Yes,” she clips, not an ounce of softness on her face.
That’s what I deserve.
So, why does it hurt so much?
“That day, we were strolling and talking about life, and all I could think about was my future,ourfuture. But then the reminder of my cruel past stood right in front of me, and it had been years since I last saw him. His unwanted presence stirred the monsters I thought I left behind.”
I adjust my grip on her hands.
“After you sent him away, and I locked myselfin my bathroom, I received some texts from him.” I swallow thickly, halting my explanation, wondering how to reveal how tainted my blood is.
“What texts?” she presses, impatient.
The skepticism marring her features guts me, but I power through. I pull my phone from my back pocket and open the text thread with Henry for her.
With furrowed eyebrows, she takes the phone and reads through the threats. The screen lights her wet face and wide eyes with each image she swipes. The blood drains from her face, her lips parting on a gasp.
My nails dig into my thighs, restraining me as I pray that she sees that whatever I’ve done was the best I could do to protect her. And even though it’s not an excuse for the insurmountable hurt that I’ve caused her, it is a glance into the reasoning behind my actions.
Once done, her head slowly lifts to me. “It’s been Henry all along? He has been threatening you with my life?” she asks, her voice a tortured whisper.
I nod.
The tears slide down her face,blending with the rain. But the heaving of her chest and trembling hands are a clear indication that she’s crying.
My phone slips from her grip and clatters to the ground, forgotten.
Once again, I grab her hands, loving the way they fit in mine. Hoping that I never have to experience the absence of her touch ever again.
“Lying to you, hurting you was killing me twice over, baby.” I choke out. “But I had to do that to protect you. I will nevernotchoose you, Andie,” I confess on a water laugh. “I’d be a fucking idiot to let the best thing in my life go. I always planned to come back, to beg for your forgiveness after I put Henry behind bars. I just needed time to realize that.”
My knees ache, but when she doesn’t say a word, silently swallowing, processing everything, I continue, “I went about it the wrong way, though, and for that I’m sorry more than words can ever express. I never wanted to hurt you, Rainbow. Not when you fill my life with more colors than I knew existed,” I choke on my words, eyes burning, imagining what I put her through.
“Then why did you?” she demands, her wordsbarely audible, pain lacing her words.
“Because Iloveyou. I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you, almost six years ago,evenwhen I didn’t know what love was,” I confess, my guttural tone hiding the whimper that begs to escape.
Andie’s eyes widen, fresh set of tears giving in to gravity as her hands twitch in mine, a soft gasp leaving her lips.
“You’ve filled these lungs with oxygen, breathed life into mydead fuckingheart, Andie,” I strangle out, the overwhelming rush of emotions choking me as I press her hands right over the bleeding cut. “It was never about me not loving you or not choosing you, baby. Because Ido—every single time.” I pause, letting my words seep into her very bones, like she’s in all of mine.
She looks at me with a myriad of emotions—hurt, pain, fear, doubt, and hope. And I still search for the one I’m starved for—love.
A sad smile spreads over my face when I don’t find it, the raindrops entering my mouth. “All of it—every damn bit—came down to one thing:youchoosingmeover everyone else. Every day, I prayed for a miracle, something that would make you see me—see my broken, lonely,tortured self.”
I swallow an audible gulp, my throat choking on my own tears, unable to say another word as my head drops between my shoulders, my hair sticking to my forehead. I begin to lose hope, begin to think she won’t forgive me. The pain in my chest wound rivals the one in my heart.
“I see you.”