I stare at her, waiting, holding my breath.
“Please,” I whisper.
Finally, finally, she takes the ring from my hand and leans on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to mine, ever so softly.
“I love you so much,” she whispers. “I love you so much. But I can’t. Not right now.”
A vice-grip crushes my heart as I stare at her; at the face that is so beautiful and delicate, at the woman who has seen me at my worst but is still standing in front of me today without judgment or derision. My chest tightens and my eyes burn. I feel utterly empty.
“I know,” I tell her, honestly. “I understand.”
And I do.
It is a truth so raw and honest that it hurts. But I haven’t given her a reason to stay so there is no way that she should. There’s only one thing that I can do…give her one.
I swallow hard, willing the lump in my throat to dissipate.
“I’ll give you a reason,” I tell her, my voice raw. “I promise. If you give me the chance, I will give you a reason to be with me.”
She kisses me again and I fight the urge to inhale her, to crush her to my chest and never let go, to force her to stay.
“I’m counting on that,” Mila murmurs as she steps away. “I just need some time Pax; time for you to show that you are serious about this, about putting the work in. That’s all I need.”
I know this is as hard for her as it is for me and I hate that I did this to her. I hate that I put that hurt on her face.
I nod slowly and the movement seems painful.
“You can have all the time that you need, Mila. I’ll wait forever if I have to.”
A tear slips down her cheek and she looks away. My gut feels like a cement block as I use my thumb to wipe her tear, then to pull her chin up.
I kiss her cheek. “I love you,” I murmur into her ear.
And then I gather every ounce of my strength, because that’s what it takes to walk away from her.
Chapter Twenty Four
Mila
Nights seem very long now, very dark and cold.
I roll over in my lonely bed again, pulling my quilt up to my chin, trying to force my mind away from thoughts of Pax. As if that will happen. My heart constricts at the memory of what Pax has been through.
Ever since he walked away from me last week, ever since I watched the rejection ripple over his face, the hurt and angst, I have played that moment over and over in my mind. Regretting it, beating myself up over it. But there’s nothing else I could have done.
He has to know that every action has a consequence. And even though he says he will change, that he realizes he needs to change, I’m pretty sure he needs a reason to actually change. If I take him back like he didn’t hurt me, he won’t have a very good reason.
Except for the one where his entire life has imploded around him, you idiot, I tell myself. Pax has every reason in the world to change, reasons that don’t even include me. If only he is strong enough to see it.
Against my better judgment, I reach for my phone. It has been a week since I have seen him or spoken with him. My heart just wants to hear from him, to know that he’s okay. Maybe then I can sleep.
I’m thinking about you. I hope you’re okay.
I send the text and wait with the phone in my fingers. There is no answer. Although I probably deserve that.
I waver back and forth in my conviction. Maddy agrees that I had no other choice but to send him away when he came to my shop. But part of me, an increasingly more insistent part, doubts it. I love him. I love him more than anything. And isn’t part of love standing next to him through thick and thin?
Love never fails. I gulp.
But then again, sometimes love has to put boxing gloves on and be tough in order to survive. Sometimes, you have to do the harder thing—the thing where you let someone grow on their own.
I fall asleep with tears on my cheek and my phone in my hands. When I wake up, there is a text waiting for me.
I’m thinking about you, too. And I’m getting there.
His words make my heart smile. And it is somehow easier to get up and face my day.
********
“I think you’re losing weight,” Maddy announces, as she prances through my shop in her new boots and a take-out sack.
I look up from where I am framing a print of the night sky and roll my eyes.
“First, I thought you said we had to tighten our belts this winter?” I ask with my eyebrow raised as I stare pointedly at her boots.
She looks sheepish. “That was true. But things are perking up now that spring is rolling around.”
“February isn’t spring,” I tell her wryly. She rolls her eyes.
“A mere technicality. It’s late February. Almost spring. Now that people aren’t snowed in, business is picking up. But you’re deflecting. You haven’t been eating right. I bet you’ve lost ten pounds—and you didn’t have it to lose, Slim.”
I would say something, but I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. She’s right. I’ve lost weight and I didn’t have it to lose.
“Did you bring me something to eat?” I ask instead. She nods, plunking the sack unceremoniously down on my picture.
“Grilled cheese and a bowl of minestrone. Tony said to eat it all and you’ll get dessert. He also said you’re getting chicken legs.”
I shake my head, and can’t help but smile. Tony loves us in his own gruff way. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was his idea that Maddy brought me the food.
“I saw Pax’s car parked in front of Dr. Tyler’s office,” Maddy mentions as she curls herself into a sleek red chair. “He’s been there a lot lately. Have you talked to him?”
I chew a bite of my sandwich and swallow hard to get it to go down. “No. Not in a month. Has he been in to The Hill?”
Maddy shakes her head. “No. And I haven’t seen his car at the bar, either. He’s pretty much been out of sight, except for when he’s with Dr. Tyler.”
She stares at me.
I ignore it.
“Well?” she finally demands, her ice blue gaze on mine. “He’s respecting your space and he’s putting in the effort so that he can move forward. Don’t you think it’s time that you took the initiative to speak with him?”