Chapter 37

“Ididn’t think you’d come,” she breathed, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

I drew in a breath, keeping my eyes on the blue and white wall in front of us instead of looking at her. If I looked at her too soon, this would be over. I wanted to hear her apology—all of it—before I made any more decisions.

“Yeah,” I said. “I came.”

“How are you?” She asked, then stuttered over her words. “That’s a stupid question.”

I inclined my chin. It took every ounce of my self-control to keep myself looking forward and even my voice. She smelled like lavender, and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the lip gloss she wore glittering in the early morning light. “Why did you want to see me?”

“Have you read my letters?” she asked.

I didn’t answer.

Eliza rubbed her hands on her thighs before taking a deep breath and beginning. “When I first met you, I was in a dark place. I was a dark person, and I believed that was it for me—that the misery I was feeling would eventually pull me under and I wouldn’t have to feel anymore. And then there was you, and you’re a ray of sunshine, a pool of gold, in my world of shadows.

“And while I sought you out for that reason, I also pushed you away because of it. You terrified me in the same instant you enthralled me, and the only thing I could think to do was run. I thought if I hurt you enough, you wouldn’t see me anymore, and your absence would make my descent into misery so much easier.”

She stopped talking for a moment. I felt her watching me, gauging my reaction and waiting for something—anything. I gave her nothing. My face remained passive and my hands on my lap, despite how much I wanted to squirm.

“Hurting you was the only way I could think of to avoid what I was feeling—that I loved you. That I fell in love with you so damn fast. That I’m hopelessly in love with you, Sophie Hawthorne.”

Still, I did not look at her.

Eliza let out a shaky breath, shifting again. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. I’ve hurt a lot of people, pushed a lot of people away, and destroyed a lot of friendships and relationships alike. I have a lot of regrets over the way I’ve dealt with emotions I didn’t understand, but I will never, ever regret anything as much as I regret what I did to your friend.”

Finally, I tilted my head toward her, just enough so she could see the snarl on my lips. “Say her name.”

Eliza opened and closed her mouth several times, then shut it and took a deep breath. “I can’t.”

“Because you’re not ready to admit to the reality of what you did or because you have no remorse for the life you stole?” I snapped. Anger coursed through me, and I spun toward her, my hand closing around her throat. She yelped in surprise, her eyes widening as I squeezed. “Her name is Addie,” I snarled. “She’s worth more than your regret.”

I shoved Eliza away, standing and beginning to leave.

“Please,” she whispered, holding out her hand. “Please, Sophie, don’t go.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” I turned back, black veins rippling beneath my eyes. “You think you can apologize for murdering my best friend, but you can’t even say her name—that’s how little she meant to you.”

Eliza shivered. “There aren’t enough apologies in the world for what I feel, what you deserve. I’d let that man kill me a thousand times over if that was what made you feel better.”

“His name is Holland,” I snapped. “He’s my brother, and he loves Addie more than anything. Because of you, he watched her die.”

Eliza opened her mouth to say something else. Then, something flashed in her eyes. “You speak of Addie in the present tense.”

I tensed, realizing my mistake. Swallowing, I crossed my arms. “Addie is in a relationship with a vampire; she was lucky enough to have his blood in her system. She’s fine—undead, but fine.”

Eliza clutched her chest and gasped for breath. “You let me believe I murdered her all this time.”

“You did!” I roared. “You took away her choice. You took her life. You killed her!”

Eliza sobbed. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Maybe you can’t,” I said, letting my arms fall and stepping back. “Maybe our love story doesn’t have a happy ending.”

“No,” she breathed. “Please, no. Please don’t leave me.”

“Give me one good reason not to,” I snapped.

Eliza moved with inhuman speed, and when her lips crashed against mine, the entire world tilted on its axis. I thought I should have been disgusted, but all I felt was relief at touching her like this again. Her mouth on mine felt right. Her hands gripped the front of my sweater, and it felt like they belonged there always. The copper taste of her tears on her lips was more familiar than my heartbeat.

I pulled away.

Eliza dropped to her knees in front of me, her hands around my thighs. “Please, please, I’ll do anything to earn your trust and your love again. Please, Sophie.”

I had no real reason to agree.

Other than the fact that every one of her words was tearing the wound in my heart open wider and wider, and I could no longer breathe from how deeply I bled. Of all the people who had begged me to stay, none of them hurt like this. This was a world-ending pain. If I walked away from Eliza, I would never be the same.

If I gave up on her, I would lose myself.

“I’ll do anything,” she blubbered on her knees, staining my pants red with her tears. “Anything to keep you. I’ll sleep on the ground forever. I’ll never drink human blood again. I’ll let Holland kill me until he doesn’t hurt anymore. I’ll let you drive a stake through my chest. Please, Sophie.”

We were going to live forever.

The realization settled into me, bringing an eternal calm as I looked down at the broken vampire at my feet—the vampire whose only goal today was to apologize.

She was the love of my life, and she didn’t have to be perfect—we didn’t have to be perfect—yet. We were going to live forever, and thus, we had forever to learn how to love each other right, and how to trust each other again.

Not every relationship was perfect, some required constant work.

And because I loved Eliza with every ounce of my being, I was going to give her the chance to do that work.

“I don’t forgive you,” I whispered.

Her cry made my heart ache.

I lowered myself to my knees before her and clutched her hands in mine. “I do not forgive you,” I said. “Not today, and probably not tomorrow. But, if you promise to love me every day as much as you do right now, I promise to stay.”

Eliza’s cry cut off, her bottom lip trembling. “What?”

I leaned forward and closed my mouth over hers, trying to convey every ounce of my love for her in a single kiss.

“I cannot promise you there will come a day when I can move past what you’ve done,” I said when we parted. “I can’t promise you a perfect relationship or a fairytale ending, but I’ll promise you a chance. I’ll be with you, every day, if you’d like me to be—as long as you’re willing to work alongside me to heal what we have broken.”

Eliza’s lips parted, searching my gaze for any trace that I was lying. When she found none, she covered her next sob with both hands.

“I don’t forgive you,” I repeated, staring into the storms in her eyes. “But I love you more than anything in this world.”

She hiccuped. “I love you, Sophie.”

I kissed her again, drawing her off the ground and back to the bench. She clung to me as if I was her life force, and I supposed maybe I was.

This love was not perfect, and there was no guarantee it would ever be. But cracks were how the light got in, and with the right kind of love, we could build our own happily ever after.

This love was not perfect, but it would not end in goodbye.

I pulled away from Eliza, sucking in a breath. “I’d like to start over,” I said.

“Start over?” She echoed.

I stood straight and smoothed out my sweater before holding out my hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Sophie.”

Eliza sniffled and wiped her face, then hurried to brush the blood off her hands. Her hand closed over mine, and there was no doubt in my mind that was where it was meant to be.

“Hi, Sophie. I’m Eliza.”