It would have happened one day.
With or without the kiss.
Because I never would’ve been able to make him happy long-term.
I never would’ve been able to give him all the things that he deserves.
I still would have said no to his proposal.
“You were right,” I say finally, looking him in the eyes. “About what you said that night.”
He frowns. “What?”
“That I was a bad girlfriend,” I explain, and his frown thickens. “Iwasa bad girlfriend to you. I didn’t know that before. I didn’t realize it. I didn’t realize what I was doing to you. Or maybe I did, I don’t know. All I know is that I never gave myself to you, fully,completelylike a girlfriend should. And so I tried to compensate for it. I tried to wear your favorite color, listen to the kind of music that you liked. I tried to wear my hair the way you thought looked pretty. I tried to watch sports with you. I tried to take interest in things that you liked. Itried. And while back then I didn’t know why I did all that, I know now. I know that I’m not right for you. I know that I’m not the kind of girl who’ll make you happy, Lucas. Who’ll give you all the things that you want, all the things that you deserve. And I’m so sorry about that. I’m so sorry that it took me years to realize that. Years to realize that I’m not the girl for you.
“And God, I put you through so much grief. I put you through so much pain. I betrayed you. I broke your trust. I rejected your proposal. I sent you down this awful, horrible path and… What I said before still stands, Lucas. You’ll never know how much I regret putting you through this, but please know that I don’t deserve this. I’m not worth ruining your life over. So please, don’t do it.”
Again, silence reigns for a while.
Again, he holds my gaze for what feels like hours.
Then, “So you picked him.”
I flinch then.
Not only because he is right — although not in the way that he’s thinking; I picked him six years ago and didn’t know it — but because what I just said has nothing to do with Reign.
It’s about me and him.
And how wrong we are for each other.
“Lucas, that’s not —”
“Even after what I told you. Even after how you broke me the first time.”
“Lucas —”
He steps forward. “I told you that I’d quit it all. For you. I told you that I’d focus on what’s important. On what matters, and knowing that, knowing how you fucked me up, you still picked him.”
“Lucas, it’s not about that. It has nothing to do with him. It’s about —”
“Then, pick me.”
“Lucas —”
He takes another few steps forward, his eyes harsh. “If it’s not about him, if you haven’t picked him, then come back to me.”
“But Lucas, I’m not right for you. We’re not right for each other. I never loved you the way —”
Another few steps forward and then he’s right here.
He’s grabbing my arm before I can even think about moving back.
“Do you think I care about that right now?” he bites out, his grip flexing, tightening around me.
“What?”
“I don’t. I don’t fucking care if you loved me or not. You can learn to love me. Because even when you didn’t love me, we still managed to have a great time together, didn’t we?” His hold tightens even more. “You were trying. So I can try now. I can fucking try to like what you like. Books, right? You like fucking books. I can read books. I can like them.”