Her jaw works back and forth, arms still crossed over what I know are perfectly pink nipples.
“So, another lie?”
My eyes jolt up from the spell I’m trying to put on her arms so she’ll drop them.
“What? No, Tin. I didn’t—”
“If you tell me one more time that you haven’t done the things you’ve done to manipulate me, I’ll scream.”
“Then scream,” I say.
I’m exhausted over this whole situation. I’m not going to give, but God this woman can be infuriating.
“I’m not going to change the story because I’m telling you the truth. I’ve tried to explain it more than once, and you won’t listen. Are you willing to listen now?”
“To more lies and—”
“Okay, that’s a no. I’m going to take a shower.”
I slide past her, letting my hand run down her arm before I walk out. I can’t resist her despite how irritating her stubbornness is. She takes a shuddering breath but doesn’t say a word to stop me. She’s like a scared cat needing to be coaxed out of a corner, and I guess it’s a good thing that I found patience in the last few years. She’s going to require a lot of it.
The shower is quick, economical, and cold because even when she’s riled up and spitting fire at me, she turns me on. I don’t want to spend a second away from her. Like always, my best thoughts come to me while I can’t do anything about them, like showering. I formulate all the things I want to say, wondering if begging on my knees will help as I dry off.
Wrapping a towel around my hips, I head to my closet, but instead of clothes I find Tinley on my messy bed, need in her eyes.
My cock thickens behind the plush towel as my quickly cognizant brains tries to flip through all the options and outcomes of what I should do.
Chapter 36
Tinley
“Tin?”
His voice is a whisper, but it still meets my ears with something similar to desperation.
I don’t speak. I can’t.
There’s so much between us, time and distance that seem nearly insurmountable, but it’s the physical space between our bodies that’s hurting me the most right now, so I stand, pulling the hem of my t-shirt over my head.
Cool air in the room hits my breasts, making my nipples tighten. I ache to touch them, to rub my palms over them, but I don’t. I shove down my sleep shorts, panties included, and step out of them.
“Tin?”
He’s hungry for me. That much is clear from the way he licks his lips and his forearms flex as he clenches his hands opened and closed, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t reach down and grip his straining cock or step closer.
“Tell me you love me,” he begs.
I have to look away. I’ve said those words to him so many times, and they were thrown back in my face. Tears burn the backs of my eyes because I know I can’t say them again.
Do I love him? God, more than anything. To myself, I can admit that despite my anger, I never stopped loving him. His love, what it felt like to be in his arms kept me from moving on, from having a real relationship after him.
“Can you, Tin?”
I still can’t bring myself to look at him, not when he walks past me, not when I hear him getting dressed, not when he leaves the room without a word.
Fat, hot tears roll down my cheeks unchecked. I know what Mom would say if she were here. She’d tell me to take a step back and look at the facts. She’d tell me that Ignacio has done nothing but help since he showed up, that all the things I thought he was doing to make things worse were conjured in my head and not based on facts.
She’d tell me that she could look at that man and see that he loves me, that he’s sorry for hurting me, that it hurt him too. She’d tell me he was so young, and made the wrong choice, and I shouldn’t hold that against him because I made a wrong choice by not telling him about Alex when I had the chance.
She’d tell me to forgive him, to risk my heart, giving it to him again because he won’t break it this time.
She’d tell me to stop being stubborn and to go get my man before someone else does.
I know she’d say all of those things.
And it feels like her hands on my back are urging me to fix things as I grab the closest article of clothing and tug it over my head, realizing with a smile that it’s Ignacio shirt he took off before his shower.
I pull the fabric up to my nose as I leave the room and go in search of him.
His back is to me when I enter the kitchen, shoulders slumped forward with this head hung low. I hate the sight of it. I want to go to him and wrap my arms around his waist. I want to tell him the words he wants to hear, but there’s still so many other things left unsaid.
“I may have only been eighteen, but I loved you with my entire heart,” I begin, losing some of my nerve when he turns around to face me. I straighten my back and continue. “I knew, just knew I was going to spend the rest of my life with you. When those two lines showed up on that test, I wasn’t sad or scared. I didn’t wonder how you would react. I didn’t regret being in that situation. I was happy, ecstatic, overjoyed to be facing that next step in our lives with you.”
I fight down the tears and do my best to keep going as he watches my face from across the room.
“You broke me that day. It’s like you ripped my heart from
