Fill Me (26 page)

But I say nothing.

He brings his gaze back to me, peering deeply into my eyes. For once he knows what I'm thinking. I can see it in his eyes, in the sad resignation in his expression.

"I love you too." My voice is tiny, a whisper. It's nothing, because it's not enough.

It's never going to be enough.

I bite my lip. "Maybe we should--"

"Don't," he cuts me off. "Don't say it."

"We can't keep running away from it."

"I know." He pushes a hair behind my ear, staring back into my eyes again.

It's like he can see straight through me. This should be enough. I love him and he loves me and, sure, we have problems. But we can work through them.

My throat goes dry again.

Or maybe we can't.

I blink back a tear. The same hot sting as last time. And this is the same. Worse, even. Nothing has changed. Nothing will. Not like this.

"Please don't leave me," I say. It's a whisper, a beg, a pathetic plea.

I close my eyes, pressing my nails into my palms. There's no reason to hide. Not anymore. He knows how bad I can get, how pathetic, how desperate.

"You're not happy with me," he says.

There's salt on my lips. I wipe my eyes, turning away so he won't see. "That's only a matter of circumstance."

"What if it's not?"

"You're the one..." My voice breaks. My throat is too ragged and dry to make any of this fit. "You're the one who wants more."

He shakes his head. "I want you to be happy."

"Please..." It's so weak, so desperate, so damn pathetic. "Please don't do this."

"I don't want to," he says. He takes my hand, squeezing it with both of his. "But Ally, do you really want to marry me?"

His eyes are on me and his gaze is intense. Sincere. He wants to know the truth. Not bullshit that will placate him. The actual truth.

I swallow hard. "I think so."

"I've failed you," he says. "I backed off when you needed me most. You deserve better."

"But I want you."

He runs his thumb over my index finger. His eyes are still on me. Still sweet. Still sincere. "Then what is it--do you want to marry me or not?"

CHAPTER THIRTY

Luke

Alyssa bites her lip. She looks anywhere but in my eyes.

She's shaking. Barely, but she's shaking.

"That's not fair," she says. She turns her gaze to her engagement ring. Runs her fingers over it.

A tear rolls down her cheek.

This is what I do to her. I make her miserable.

"Ally..."

I reach for her, to touch her, offer some hint of comfort. She pushes my hand away, turning her gaze back to the ocean.

"Don't pretend," she says.

"This isn't even the first time this month I've made you cry."

She shakes her head as if to protest, as if to suggest that she's not crying.

"It's okay," I say. "You'll be happier."

I move closer to her, but she pushes me away. Harder this time.

"Don't tell me how I'll feel."

"Okay, you tell me."

Tears roll down her cheeks. She hugs her knees into her chest. Digs her nails into her shins. "You really did give up on me, didn't you?"

"Of course not."

I reach for her. This time she doesn't push me away. I rub her shoulders. Brush her hair back behind her ears. Her eyes are still on the floor. Her nails are still digging into her shins.

"Then why don't you... why do you want to break up with me?"

"I don't."

"But you are anyway?"

My heart sinks. It's a horrifying thought. I love Alyssa. I need to be with her, all the time, doing everything I can to make her life bliss.

But, whatever she needs, I'm not giving it to her. She's not happy. She's distant, she's angry, she's miserable. I'm making her miserable.

She meets my gaze. Her eyes are red and filled with tears. More tears I caused.

"I'm not going to be another person who drags you down," I say.

She shakes her head, squeezing her knees tighter. "You're not. Please, Luke. I love you. I love you so much. You make me so happy."

"You're crying."

"We're going through a rough patch. It will get better."

"How?"

She looks back at the floor. Damn. I was hoping she had the secret answer. The one little thing that would make all this easier.

I wrap my hands around her wrists and pry them off her shins. She resists for a moment, but she's quickly putty in my hands. She lowers her knees, shifting into me so that I can wrap my arms around her.

The feel of her body against mine is still magic.

I bite my tongue. This hurts so fucking bad, but I can't fight it. She deserves better than settling. I have to be strong for her. I have to take the brunt of this.

"Please." Her voice cracks. It's weak and desperate.

I can't do this to her. I can't break her heart.

She presses her palms against my back. It's so warm, so sweet, so demanding. I can't drag this out. It will only hurt her more.

"You never answered the question," I say.

She doesn't say anything. She just rests her head against my chest, hugging me tighter. Her body is so soft against mine, so desperate, so willing. I'm tempted to take her to the bedroom, to do everything I can to wipe this pain away.

But it will only hurt worse.

"I love you," she says.

"But you don't want to marry me." The words are acid in my throat. But it's the truth. It's the only possible conclusion.

"I do... I... don't know." She pulls me closer, holding me tighter.

"But I do, Ally. When I look at you, I see forever. I see our wedding day. Our honeymoon. I see us getting old and crotchety and bemoaning the kids and their terrible taste in TV." My stomach drops. This is terrible. It's awful. But it's what I have to do. "When you look at me, you see demands. You see pain. You see how miserable you've been."

"That's not true," she says.

"It's okay," I say. I absorb everything I can about this moment--the smell of her hair, the softness of her skin, the feeling of her body against mine. "You've spared my feelings for long enough."

She chokes back another sob. I hate making her feel like this, but it will only hurt worse if I delay it any more.

"So that's it? Engagement's off, I'm moving out? Everything is over?"

"You're miserable with me."

She breaks our embrace and moves back. Her arms tighten around her chest and she looks into my eyes. It's angry. "Don't pin this on me. That's a cowardly move."

I clench my fists. "Fine. This is all me, all what I want. I love you so much, Alyssa. When I'm with you, I feel like my heart could burst. The air is sweeter, the food tastes better. It's like I can hear music playing. When you're happy, I'm so happy I could die. But when you're miserable, when I know I caused you all this pain, I can't take it."

A tear rolls down her cheek. I want to go to her, to hold her, to kiss all that pain away. But I have to be strong here. Strong for both of us.

"I still remember seeing you with Ryan, thinking how tragic it was that someone so smart and sure of herself was willing to settle for someone who didn't make her happy. And I wanted so much to convince you that you deserved better. And now, here I am. I'm the asshole fiancé who isn't making you happy. And I can't live with that."

"But you're not... you're nothing like him."

"I'm not going to tell you how you feel," I say. "But I can't be with you unless I'm making you happy." I look at her, into those clear, blue eyes. "Are you happy?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know."

"That won't do."

There's a long silence. The waves roll onto the beach, a slow, steady rhythm. They'll be there, rolling in and out, forever.

A warm breeze passes over me, pressing my T-shirt against my skin.

This will hurt a little less tomorrow. She'll hurt a little less tomorrow.

"I should get to decide who makes me happy," she says. It's barely a protest, but it's something.

"You do," I say. "But so do I. And I can't be with you like this--with the two of us three thousand miles apart no matter how close together we are."

A tear rolls down her cheek. I tell myself not to hold her, not to stroke her hair, not to do something to ease the agony she's feeling in this moment.

But I can't. I take her into my arms, holding her tightly, soaking in the warmth of her body.

"I don't want to put any more demands on you," I say. "But I can't keep fighting all your defenses. If talking to me really makes you this miserable..."

She squeezes me. "If you're breaking up with me, do it. I can't take this uncertainty."

She's right. I can't put this back on her. I have to pull the Band-Aide off.

"Then I'm breaking up with you."

She chokes back a sob. Her fingers dig into my shirt as she squeezes me tighter and tighter.

I want to take it back. I want to tell her I changed my mind, that I'll do whatever she says, be whatever she wants. I love her so damn much. Who's to say it isn't better this way? Who's to say that she isn't happy with me? But that's all bullshit.

She doesn't want to be my wife. She doesn't even want to tell me how she feels.

I hold Alyssa for what seems like forever. Her sobs fade to gentle cries, to choppy breaths, to slow, steady inhalations. She doesn't protest.

She must agree she'll be happier with someone else.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Alyssa

Luke offers me the rest of the vacation. Like spending the next four days in Hawaii by myself is some kind of consolation prize.
Sorry, I'm dumping you. Here's some time in paradise to really let that sink in.

Fucking wonderful.

He retreats to the living room of the suite, leaving the bedroom to me. He calls someone, making some kind of arrangements. Probably some woman who actually talks to him.

I pull my knees into my chest and bury myself under the covers. It's dimmer, darker, quieter. It's warm, too warm, but the suffocating feeling is comforting somehow. Something is wrapped around me. It's not Luke's arms. It's not his undying devotion or even his damn patience.

A sob breaks into a whimper. I can't cry too loudly. I can't do anything that will tempt him to console me. A hug from him, the sweet smell of his body, the taste of his lips...

It would be too much. I'd fall apart.

I hug my knees tighter. I may as well fall apart. Better than trying to convince myself I can live without him.

He's tired of fighting me.

I squeeze my eyes closed, willing the darkness into my brain. I need black. I need nothing. I need to be empty again, to be filled with anything except this.

This is it. The end. He's done enough, been patient enough, been sweet enough. Hell, he's been much more than I deserve.

I can't blame him. I'm tired of fighting me too. If I had the choice, I'd walk away.

Tears sting my eyes. Okay. Fine. This is one thing I can't fight.

A sob wells in my throat. I clutch the blanket around me. Here, alone, in this dark room, I can really fall apart.

***

"Alyssa."

Luke's voice is so gentle and sweet. For a moment, I'm convinced this was all a nightmare. Another premonition of the awful I might face.

I open my eyes, and the world is spinning around me. That's Luke, sitting on the bed with that look on his face that says
I'm sorry, I'm getting out of here
. And this is our room, the room where we were supposed to fix everything, where we were supposed to erase how much the last six months hurt.

I feel his hands on my hair. I close my eyes, fighting another round of stupid tears. There's an emptiness inside of me, starting at my throat and going all the way into my gut.

He strokes my hair gently. He should stop. He shouldn't do this. It hurts too much. It's too awful. But I need the comfort too much. I need him around too much.

"I talked to Laurie. She's taking a red-eye. She'll be here in the morning."

And now he's calling my friends to console me. Doesn't he realize being sweet and considerate only makes this worse?

There's mostly concern in his eyes. Even when he's desperate to get the hell out of Dodge, he's still concerned for me.

"Okay," I say. It's a tiny whisper. The only thing I can manage.

"I'm leaving in a few minutes."

I swallow hard, willing my eyes to stay dry. "Do you have to?"

He strokes my hair one last time. Looks into my eyes one last time. He leans towards me, and presses his lips against mine. It's the softest, lightest kiss. It's barely anything.

But it hurts so fucking bad.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I don't want to drag you around."

"I love you." It's the only protest I can manage.

"Let's not get into this again," he says. He strokes my hair again. His touch is so soft, so gentle, so perfect.

It's not the touch of someone who's leaving.

"What now?" I ask.

He pulls his hand away, his gaze hardening. "You and Laurie will have a few days in Hawaii. I'll be back at the house. You're still welcome there." He looks to the far corner of the room. "I'd like to be your friend."

What a shitty set of consolation prizes.

He brings his gaze back to me. There's love in his eyes. I can see it. He still loves me. He still wants me. He's frustrated, but that's it. There's still a chance... he could be convinced.

But not by a bunch of empty promises.

"I'm not going to abandon you," he says.

I'm sure he means it, but right now, it's just another shitty consolation prize.

I nod okay. I'm still welcome in his house, in the spare room, to be around him but not with him. So I can watch him move on to some girl who will actually talk to him, some girl who won't frustrate him, some girl who is everything he really wants.