A Love Like Ours

Chapter 18

It took a moment for my brain and heart to right themselves again, to fully comprehend the words that she'd just whispered. And even then, tremors still tore through my body.

I pulled away, already missing the warmth of her, so I kept my grip on her arms as I looked into her teary eyes.

"You... you don't?"

She didn't blink away the tears—just kept staring at me, her beautiful lips pressed together in a cross between a smile and a grimace.

She shook her head.

My heart pounded so hard, my breath emptied from my chest so quickly, I almost doubled over with the intensity of it—the relief, the love, the wealth of happiness that her truth had just unlocked within me.

And it took a moment for me to rebound, a moment during which I pulled her to me again, ready for anything now that I knew the truth, now that I knew that she did still love me. Directly from her.

I held her, closed my eyes, pressed my cheek to her head as she shook with her tears, and I cried, too. Let myself feel every bit of the relief, every bit of the happiness, every bit of the comfort holding her had always given me, and every bit of the disbelief, too.

A week ago, there hadn't been any hope. Even when she'd shown up in L.A., the thought of a second chance with her seemed impossible. Out of the realm of reality. She was engaged. She had moved on. She had left me behind. But she was here, and as much as I wanted to have a second chance with her, was as much as I tried to convince myself that it wouldn't happen. Because if I let myself get too hopeful, I knew I would only be more heartbroken.

But she'd stayed. That, in and of itself, had made me more hopeful than I wanted to be. And now, a week and a half later, despite all that I'd done to push her away, she was still here, letting me hold her, allowing me to grab the second chance I'd been too afraid to hope for with both hands.

And I wasn't letting go. Not this time.

"So, don't," I finally whispered, drawing in and releasing long, unsteady breaths as I hugged her closer, relishing the warmth and softness of her against my body for the first time in so long. "Stay here. Please."

I felt her breath hitch against me, and her head turn beneath my chin, pressing her nose to my chest. I thought I might collapse when her breath fanned out and warmed my skin through my t-shirt.

"I can't," she whispered, her breath spelling the letters out against my skin. It prickled with gooseflesh despite the fact that I hated those two little words.

I gripped her arms again, pulled back to look at her as I tried to gently shake some sense into her. I was still smiling like a fucking loon. "Yes, you can." She shook her head, closed her eyes. "You can, Mads."

"I can't," she said again, insistent, breaking my heart once more when she looked into my eyes and all the pain there stared at me. She gripped my forearms as tightly as I gripped her arms, but I didn't mind the bite of her nails in my skin. It just meant that she was as desperate as I was. "I can't just stay here, Harry. Not with all that's waiting for me back home."

I studied that pain, waited for it to give, waited for the same relief I was feeling in knowing the truth of her heart to show in her eyes, to break through the pain. But if anything, the clouds only darkened.

"No," I said, starting to panic again, "No, you can." I touched her cheek with the tips of my fingers, watched her eyes flutter closed, and took her face into both of my hands, gently running my thumbs along her cheekbones. "It's all going to be alright now. Now that we both know—"