“Don’t,” I said. I pinched my eyes shut. “Don’t you dare say it like this if you don’t mean it, Tucker. Not right now.”
My heart couldn’t handle it if he didn’t.
The highs and lows of that one day were enough without him saying something he might not mean. Or was rushing because he thought I wanted to hear it.
He was quiet, and I opened my eyes carefully. His whole face, painfully handsome and bent in frustration, was so close to mine. When his chin dipped, I allowed myself that moment, and I met him in the middle. His lips covered mine with such surety, such skill.
His arms wrapped slowly around my back and I let out a shaky exhale as he tilted his head and took the kiss deeper. It would be so easy, to let the one moment become two. Then three.
Pull his clothes off and do the same to mine.
It would be easy to let him swing me up into his strong arms and take me to bed, where we’d bury what happened, with his body covering mine.
Tucker pulled away when he sensed me slowing the movements of the kiss and rested his forehead against my own.
“Why do I feel like you’re going to walk out of here and not come back?” he whispered. “I screwed up, Grace, it’s not an excuse, and I can’t change it, but I don’t know what else to do but apologize and promise that I won’t do it again.”
I pressed another kiss to his lips and pulled out of his arms.
His hair was a mess, his lips pink from our kiss. His clothes were wrinkled and there was a mark on the side of his neck, probably from my fingernails. I’d never seen him look so miserably disheveled, and I loved him all the more for it.
But no matter how much I did, no matter how deeply I knew he was it for me, I needed to love myself too. I needed to know that in this moment, when it counted, I made sure that I was taking care of me.
“I forgive you, Tucker,” I said quietly. “But I need you to do more than just … promise not to do it again. I need you to choose me.”
His mouth fell open, and I turned toward my car, my keys clutched in my hand so hard that I couldn’t believe I didn’t puncture the skin of my palm.
My whole body shook from how difficult it was to walk away from him.
But I did.
“Stupid, stupid love curse,” I whispered just before I yanked my car door open.
“What did you say?” he asked.
I froze. There was no way he heard me. No possible way he would’ve known what it meant.
I looked over my shoulder and gave him a sad smile. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
He gave me a thoughtful look, jaw tight and shoulders tense. But he didn’t stop me when I climbed into my seat and closed the door quietly.
And as soon as my car cleared the driveway, I let the tears fall.
Chapter 52 Grace
Things I'd learned in the last forty-eight hours:
-You could actually cry yourself to sleep (I didn't recommend it, but it was physically possible)
-Your body could feel sore from laying on the couch and binging crappy reality TV shows
-If you put a note on the door that said 'unless you're leaving food at the door, go away' people would grudgingly leave you alone
-Family love curses were complete and utter bullshit
I sniffed, leaning to look for the remote where I'd last seen it on the floor. There were balled up tissues and empty ice cream cartons, crumpled up bags of potato chips and a half-empty box of Sour Patch Kids.
My body was pumped full of sugar, salt, and sadness.
My phone was on silent, though my mom had tried to call a few times, probably because my brother tattled on me.
Flopping onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling and tried desperately to give myself a pep talk.
Objectively, I knew I didn't need Tucker to survive, nor did he inherently raise my value as a person. On my own, I was worthy of being loved, and worthy of happiness and respect.
But holy hell, it was like I'd carved out my heart and left it beating on the concrete.
A fresh wave of tears tipped over onto my cheeks, and I swiped frantically to get rid of them.
There was a knock on the door, which I ignored.
A shadow darkened the window, tall enough to be either my dad or brother, and I rolled over, shoving a pillow on top of my head so I didn't have to see whoever it was.
When the door swung open, I yanked the pillow away. "Hey, that was locked."
My dad sighed, taking in the scene in front of him like there was a chalk outline of a body on the floor or something. "Yeah, well, it's an easy enough lock to pick. I'll have to talk to Robert about that. You need a deadbolt."
"I need privacy."
Behind him was Grady, gaping at me in horror. "Holy shit, you look terrible."
"Thanks." I sat up and stared blankly at both of them. "What do you want?"
"Come on, Gracey B," my dad said and held out a hand. "Time to get up and get moving. Your brother is going to start a shower, and I'll make food."
The empty potato chip bag crinkled loudly as he stepped on it. I pointed at the floor. "I've eaten."
"Real food."
They both stared down at me, and the sight of them, big and tall and concerned, made me sniffle pathetically. My eyes burned, and the bridge of my nose felt tingly.
"Ohh, no, no," Grady said. "No more leaky faucet, okay? You've had a couple of days to cry, and now it's time to shower and not smell like that homeless dude who used to live in front
