But there's no sign of Leighton.
Chapter Forty-Two
Ryan
Leighton isn't in the lobby.
She isn't in our room.
She's not lounging on a deck chair by the pool. Or strolling along the garden path. Or sucking sugar syrup from a shaved ice.
My dress shoes sink onto the sand as I step off the concrete path.
There.
Moonlight bounces off a silver dress.
She's sitting on the beach, her legs pulled into her chest, her gaze on the starry sky.
I move closer.
The fear in her eyes comes into focus.
She pulls her hands to her sides. Lets them sink into the dry sand. "It's beautiful here."
"Yeah."
"More stars than I've ever seen."
There are, but it's hard to see it as beautiful at the moment. Not with my stomach sinking like a stone.
"I'm sorry about your mom. I—"
"It's okay. She gets it."
She pats the spot next to her.
I drop to the sand.
She turns toward me with a soft smile. "You're fucking up your suit."
"I don't care."
"I do. I like it." She shifts, straddling me.
She's warm. Soft. Everything.
But is she mine?
I don't fucking know anymore.
Her eyelids flutter closed as she kisses me.
I scrape my teeth against her bottom lip.
I kiss her hard.
I kiss her like the fucking ship is going down.
'Cause it might be.
She pulls back with a sigh. "I had to be sure."
I reach up, rest my palm against her cheek, rub her temple with my thumb. She's so fucking beautiful. So perfect. So everything.
It needs to stay like this.
We need to stay like this.
"Leigh…"
Her voice is a whisper. "I am sure."
"Of what?" The words are heavy on my tongue.
She stares into my eyes.
She stares into my goddamn soul.
"I love you." Her voice is steady. "I love you so fucking much."
I stare back at her.
"You're my first thought when I wake up. My last thought before I fall asleep. When I see my future, I see you. I see us. Until it gets messed up and I see her. I see you loving her forever."
"I don't love her anymore."
"But you're not over her?"
"I'm almost there."
"Almost." Her eyes turn down. "Do you love me?"
I swallow hard. I can't tell her what she wants to hear.
But I can't lie to her.
I could never lie to her.
I run my thumb over her temple.
She closes her eyes. Turns to lean into the touch. "Please say yes. Ryan. Please. Please tell me you love me."
"I want to."
Her eyelids blink open.
"I want to so fucking badly."
A tear catches on her lashes. "But you can't." It's not a question.
I answer anyway. "I'm not sure what that feels like."
She nods, accepting my explanation.
Deeming it inadequate.
A tear rolls down her cheek. Catches on my thumb.
She blinks and her lashes are curtained with them.
I wrap my arms around her. Pull her closer. Breathe in every ounce of her.
That coconut shampoo.
And something distinctly Leighton.
She sinks into my touch.
She cries onto my suit jacket.
Waves crash onto the beach. Moonlight bounces off the ocean. Stars shine against the dark sky.
"I know I said I'd be patient. But I can't." Her voice is a whisper. A promise. A plea. "I'm sorry, Ryan. But I can't do this anymore."
"Leigh…"
"I want to be okay with it. Really, I do. But I'm not."
She leans down and presses her lips to mine. It's a long, slow kiss. It's everything she has.
It's everything I have.
But it isn't enough.
Chapter Forty-Three
Leighton
The pineapple print bedspread mocks me. You're in paradise and you're crying? Are you ever going to be happy? Is anything ever going to be enough for you?
Try putting down the vodka for once.
Or womaning the fuck up.
It's been two weeks. So what if he's confused. Give the guy a little time.
Stop putting your intimacy issues on him.
You knew he was fucked-up when this started. Now you're leaving him for it? That's entrapment, honey.
Did you ask him to open his heart just to tear it from his chest?
Did you offer yours just to take it away?
You call that love?
I try to reason with the goddamn comforter. It's my body and my life. I can ruin it if I want. I can leave my favorite person in the world if I want.
I can run away from the rejection that awaits me tomorrow if I want.
Yeah, I'm second best again.
But at least this time I know it.
This time I'm not spending ten years crossing my fingers, praying he'll change.
I find my suitcase in the closet. Toss it on top of that stupid pineapple bedspread. Pour my entire underwear drawer into it.
My dress tugs at my hips.
The right strap slips off my shoulder.
This is not how I'm supposed to undress.
This is not how I'm supposed to end tonight.
This is not how I'm supposed to lose Ryan.
Is it really him?
Or is it something about me—some quality I'm lacking?
A sob rises in my throat. I do nothing to choke it back.
Ryan doesn't love me. And I'm tipsy in our hotel room, unable to pack because my dress is too tight.
Unable to leave because I can't pack.
Unable to figure out what the fuck all the hurt in his eyes means.
He wants to love me. I know he does.
But I also know that isn't enough.
My heels sink into the carpet as I cross the room. Then they're tap-taping against the tile.
I fill a glass with water and drink it in three gulps.
It soothes my throat, but it fails to soothe my heart.
No, I'm making this complicated when it's simple.
He doesn't love me.
What else do I need to know?
I slide out of my dress. Fold it at the bottom of my suitcase. Find panties, shorts, a t-shirt, and a bra in the dresser and change.
But now I look ridiculous. Who wears shorts with heels?
I sit on the bed the way I did earlier, when Ryan was looking up at me, sliding my heel on like I was Cinderella.
Fuck these shoes.
I undo the right strap. The left. I kick them halfway across the room.
They bounce off the wall with a thud.
It fails to satisfy me.
He doesn't love me.
How could anything possibly satisfy me?
Chapter Forty-Four
Ryan
The stars keep shining.
The waves keep crashing.
My head keeps spinning.
It's like the first time we kissed.
It makes no fucking sense.
And every lick of sense in the world.
I'm not enough for her.