The cruel words felt like a slap, but he could see the terror in her eyes, and knew she was pushing him away because she was scared. She was hitting out at him, playing the bad girl to hide her fear, the way she had all those years ago at that pricey convent school.
“I know enough, Zel,” he said, refusing to let the bad girl act distract him, the way it had a decade ago. “I know you believe the worst of yourself. But that’s not who you really are. Because I also know you’re the kind of woman who would take the blame for something she didn’t do, rather than let down her friends. Who would get torn away from the only people who cared about her, rather than speak up in her own defense.”
“I’m not one of your charity cases. I don’t need you to rescue me.”
“I don’t want to rescue you. I want much more than that. Don’t you get it? I’m falling in love with you, for fuck’s sake.”
He saw shock, followed quickly by panic. It wasn’t the way he’d intended to say it. This was the first time he’d ever told a woman he loved her, and he’d messed it up. But the truth of it still stood. He didn’t care if it was too quick.
And yeah, maybe it was supremely arrogant of him, but he didn’t think he was having these feelings all on his own.
“You can’t love me, you don’t know me,” she said, the panic rising in her voice. “You don’t know the things I’ve done. I’ve screwed up all the way down the line. This isn’t about bad choices, it’s more than that, just read any headline about me and you’ll see.”
“Do you think I give a damn about what the press says about you?”
“It’s not just the press, they didn’t make it up.”
“I don’t care.”
He tried to hold her arm, but she jerked free. “I’m an alcoholic, Ty. Now do you get it?”
“Bullshit, I’ve never seen you take a drink.”
“Because I’m in recovery,” she said, exasperated. “I’ve been sober for five years. But I’ll always be an alcoholic.”
She looked devastated at the admission. He almost laughed. Did she really believe he was so shallow and insensitive, that he couldn’t see that made her even more heroic? Because she’d faced her demons and overcome them?
“That’s your big confession?” he said. “That you’re an alcoholic and you’ve fought to control your addiction for five years?” He reached for her again, and this time she let him pull her into his arms. “It doesn’t matter, not to me. If that’s what’s stopping you from admitting how you feel, I don’t care.” He brushed her hair, cupped her skull, felt her cheek rest against his collarbone. “I can give up drinking, too. I want to help. I want to be there for you. Don’t you see? We can fight this thing together.”
*
Zelda struggled free, wrapping her arms around her midriff to hold in the hollow hurt, the trembles of reaction. And forced her anger to the fore to cover the crippling feeling of loss, of yearning that she could never let him see.
Tyrone Sullivan wanted to be her knight in shining armor. He wanted to protect her and care for her, and maybe he really was falling in love with her. But what he didn’t realize was she could never take that leap, because she’d lost the right to take those kinds of risks, years ago.
“No, you’re the one who doesn’t see,” she said. “This isn’t about you, or me, or whether we can give this relationship a chance.” She spat the words out, filling them with as much contempt as she could to hide the pain. “I have a fucking disease, Ty. A disease for which there is no cure. A disease which would happily kill me if I let it. And fighting that disease has to be my only priority. Not you. Or any relationship I might have. It’s not that I can’t admit my feelings, it’s that I don’t want to. Because then you’ll think that we can be a normal couple, when we can’t. We had three great days together. I told you there couldn’t be more right from the start. That you chose not to listen is your problem. Not mine.”
He flinched, clearly shocked at her outburst. But she could see the knowledge finally dawning on his face. That she wasn’t who he’d convinced himself she was. Not the romantic wild child, worthy of his sympathy and support, but something damaged and desperate, seedy and ugly, who would have to spend the rest of her life atoning for the mistakes she had made before she had ever met him. Someone who would forever have those mistakes hanging over her, waiting to drag her back down.
She had to be strong. She couldn’t let anything weaken her. So needing him, wanting him, believing he could rescue her when she had to be able to rescue herself could destroy her.
“Zelda… Don’t throw this away…” He reached for her again.
“No.” She yanked her arm out of his grasp. “Please just leave me alone. I don’t want this. I…” She gulped down the ball of tears wedged in her throat. “I don’t want you.”
Beca
use I can’t have you.
He said nothing as she turned and walked to the door on unsteady legs. Nothing as she unlocked it and ran up the cellar stairs and out into the alleyway.
Tears streaked her face as she rushed into the Brooklyn night and called a cab. Foolishly, she cast a glance at the back door of the pub as the cab sped away from the curb, willing him to appear, to chase after her. But even as a part of her wanted him to be willing to take her, broken and damaged as she was, wanted him to be willing to fight for what they might have had together, and take on her burdens, another part of her knew it was a selfish and destructive pipedream that would only destroy them both. Neither of them could turn back the clock to a time when love would have been enough to conquer all. The realist, the pragmatist, the cynic inside her, which had been forged in fire during five years of fighting her addictions, knew she had to fight her battles alone. That she couldn’t afford to believe in fairy tales.
And the foolish, romantic unrealistic part of her that wanted to believe in happy ever afters also knew she couldn’t shackle Ty to a person who could never give him everything he deserved.
Because every part of her cared for him too much.
Chapter Ten