But he reaches for his jeans.
He’s dressed and walking toward the door before I can find my voice.
Every part of me is screaming on the inside, begging him to stay, but I can’t make myself move or talk.
He pulls open the door, then stops. “I’m not Ben. I would never ask you to give up anything.”
Lucas is out of my door and life before my next breath.
My chest constricts so tight I can barely breathe. Why does this feel like a breakup?
When Ben walked out, I was numb, but it was nothing like this cold emptiness blistering my soul. The thought of not seeing Lucas every day twists like a knife in my chest.
“Lucas.” I don’t recognize the high, panicked squeak coming from my throat as I stumble for the door.
“Lucas,” I call out again, concrete rough on my bare feet as I stumble down the stairs and onto my driveway.
He stops, but he doesn’t turn.
The cold night air stings my exposed skin, the satin gown offering no comfort or protection. But I’ll stay out here all night if it means Lucas won’t leave.
Not like this.
Not when I haven’t told him I love him too.
I step in front of him. The streetlight plays across his face, deepening the furrows on his forehead until the shadows make his face look harsh.
Bitter.
Hurt.
I wrap my arms around his waist and cling to him, afraid to let go. “I’m so sorry.”
Every muscle in his body is tense as he grips my hips. I can’t tell if he wants to push me away or pull me close.
He spins us until my back is flush against the cold metal of his car door and kisses me with his entire body. Thigh to thigh, chest to chest. His teeth bite; his tongue plunders. The pressure is desperate and punishing.
The sweetest torture.
He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to mine as we catch our breath.
Salt coats my mouth from the tears dripping down my cheeks.
“Shouldn’t I be the one crying?” He asks, wiping the wet trail.
A sob hiccups up my throat, and I bury my face in his chest. “I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“Do you hate me?”
His arms tighten around me as he presses a kiss on top of my head. “Never.”
“I love you too,” I whisper, looking up at him.