Home > Ugly Love(57)

Ugly Love(57)
Author: Colleen Hoover

I look around. We’re on a lake.

I bring my hand up to my jaw.

My hand is red.

Covered in blood as red as Rachel’s hair.

Rachel.

I find Rachel.

Clayton.

I don’t find Clayton.

I push up on my hands and move to the edge of the boat.

I need to find him.

Someone stops me. Someone pulls me back.

Someone won’t let me.

Someone is telling me it’s too late.

Someone tells me he’s sorry.

Someone tells me we can’t get to him.

Someone tells me we went over the bridge after the impact.

Someone tells me he’s so sorry.

I move to Rachel, instead.

I try to hold her, but she won’t let me. She’s screaming.

Sobbing. CRYING. WAILING.

She hits me.

She kicks me.

She says I should have saved him instead.

But I tried to save you both, Rachel.

“You should have saved him, Miles!” she cries.

You should have saved him.

You should have saved him.

I should have saved HIM.

She’s screaming.

Sobbing. CRYING. WAILING.

I hold her anyway.

I let her hit me.

I let her hate me.

Rachel hates me.

I hold her anyway.

Rachel cries, but she’s quiet. She’s crying so hard her throat can’t even make a sound. Her body is crying, but her voice is not.

Ruined.

Ruined.

RUINED.

I cry with her. I cry and I cry and I cry and I cry and we cry and we cry and we cry.

Ruined.

The water is everything now.

I look at Rachel. I only see water.

I close my eyes. I only see water.

I look up at the sky. I only see water.

It hurts so much. I never knew a heart could hold the weight of the entire world.

I don’t make Rachel’s life better anymore.

I ruined you, Rachel.

My family.

Me and you and Clayton.

RUINED.

You can’t love me after this, Rachel.

 

 

chapter thirty-three


TATE


My hands are on him, rubbing his back, touching his hair. He’s crying, and the only thing I can do is tell him never mind. I want to tell him to forget everything I said tonight. I want to do whatever I can to take this pain away from him, because whatever happened shouldn’t matter. Whatever happened, no one deserves to feel the way he’s feeling right now.

I move his arms from his face, then slide onto his lap. I hold his face in my hands and tilt it to mine. He keeps his eyes closed. “I don’t have to know, Miles.”

His arms wrap around my back, and he buries his face against my chest. His labored breaths come faster as he tries to push back his emotions. My arms are wrapped around his head, and I kiss his hair, then trail kisses down the side of his head until he pulls back and looks up at me.

No amount of armor in the world and no wall no matter how thick could hide the devastation in his eyes right now. It’s so prominent, and there’s so much of it, I have to hold my breath so I don’t cry with him.

What happened to you, Miles?

“I don’t have to know,” I whisper again, shaking my head.

His hands move to the back of my head, and he presses his mouth to mine, hard and painfully. He moves forward until my back is against the floor. His hands pull at my shirt, and he’s kissing me desperately, furiously, filling my mouth with the taste of his tears.

I let him use me to get rid of his pain.

I’ll do whatever he wants me to do as long as he stops hurting like he’s hurting.

He slips his hand beneath my skirt and begins to pull down my underwear at the same time as I hook my thumbs onto the hips of his jeans and push them down. My panties make it to my ankles, and I kick them off, just as he takes both my hands and pushes them above my head, pressing them to the floor.

He drops his forehead to mine but doesn’t kiss me. He closes his eyes, but I keep mine open. He wastes no time pushing himself between my legs, spreading them wider. He moves his forehead to the side of my head, then slides into me slowly. When he’s all the way inside me, he exhales, releasing some of his pain. Taking his mind away from whatever horror he just went through.

He pulls out, then thrusts inside me again, this time with all his strength.

It hurts.

Give me your pain, Miles.

“My God, Rachel,” he whispers.

My God, Rachel . . .

Rachel, Rachel, Rachel.

That word gets put on repeat inside my head.

My.

God.

Rachel.

I turn my head away from his. It’s the worst pain I’ve ever felt. The absolute worst.

His body immediately stills inside mine when he realizes what he said. The only thing moving between us right now are the tears falling from my eyes.

“Tate,” he whispers, shattering the silence between us. “Tate, I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head, but the tears won’t stop. Somewhere deep inside me, I feel something harden. Something that was once liquid completely freezes, and it’s in this moment that I know this is it.

That name.

It said it all. I’ll never have his past, because she has it.

I’ll never have his future, because he refuses to give it to anyone who isn’t her.

And I’ll never know why, because he’ll never tell me.

He begins to pull out of me, but I tighten my legs around his. He sighs heavily against my cheek. “I swear to God, Tate. I wasn’t thinking about—”

“Stop,” I whisper. I don’t want to hear him defend what just happened. “Just finish, Miles.”

He lifts his head and looks down at me. I see the apology, clear as day, hiding behind fresh tears. I don’t know if it’s my words that have just cut him again or the fact that we both know this is it, but it looks like his heart just broke again.

If that’s even possible.

A tear falls from his eyes and lands on my cheek. I feel it roll down and combine with one of my own.

I just want this to be over.

I wrap my hand around the back of his head and pull his mouth to mine. He’s not moving inside me anymore, so I arch my back, pressing my hips harder against him. He moans in my mouth and moves against me once, then stops again. “Tate,” he says against my lips.

“Just finish, Miles,” I say to him through my tears. “Just finish.”

He places a palm against my cheek and he presses his lips to my ear. We’re both crying harder now, and I can see that I’m more than this to him. I know I am. I feel how much he wants to love me, but whatever is stopping him is more than I’m able to conquer. I wrap my arms around his neck. “Please,” I beg him. “Please, Miles.” I’m crying, begging for something, but I don’t even know what it is anymore.

He thrusts against me. Hard this time. So hard I scoot away from him, so he wraps his arms under my shoulders and cups his hands upward, holding me in place against him as he repeatedly pushes into me. Hard, long, deep thrusts that force moans out of both of us with every movement.

“Harder,” I beg.

He pushes harder.

“Faster.”

He moves faster.

We’re both gasping for breath between our tears. It’s intense. It’s heartbreaking. It’s devastating.

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