Chapter 38

Casey was coming over to help me pack. Tomorrow, I’d be back in Tennessee. Today, Keegan was leaving with Haven.

Nothing tasted right. Sounds I usually loved, the birds, the kids laughing outside, fell flat. Time moved without me, thick and slow, like I was watching my life through glass.

Keegan had broken me again, and I didn’t know how to stitch myself back together. With both of us leaving, distance felt like the only mercy. I stayed out of the shared spaces, avoided the kitchen, the living room, anywhere I might run into him. I knew he’d want to explain. I didn’t have the strength to listen. I loved him, but what we shared the other night, made that door closed for good. I longed for him, but he had to live his life and I had to live mine.

I told myself I was done. I’d moved on with Tate. We’d been good for almost a year. I hadn’t thought about Keegan at all. But the second I saw him, everything came rushing back: love, want, muscle memory. And sleeping with him again, made it impossible to pretend otherwise. I loved him. And he was leaving with another woman.

Was I really this stupid, or did it just feel that way?

I rolled my shirts tight and lined them neatly in my suitcase. Toiletries tomorrow, I reminded myself, setting the bag aside. I was sorting socks when a knock sounded at my door.

“Come in!” I called over my music.

My playlist was tragic on purpose. I was singing along like it might bleed some of the hurt out of me.

“This is a good song,” a man’s voice said.

I turned. Keegan stood there, closing my door behind him.

“Oh,” I said. “I was expecting… never mind. What do you want?”

He sat on my bed, nudging my suitcase aside, fingers absently spinning one of the wheels.

“Brees, you’ve been avoiding me since my mom said that stuff in the kitchen. Are we okay? How are you feeling about me leaving?”

I stared at him. Are we okay? How did I feel about him moving across the country with another woman?

I feel fucking fantastic. I threw away a relationship that I was content with. I mean, I was happy enough. I could have possibly been very happy with Tate. But instead here I sit, staring at the man I love, whom I also can’t have.

“Don’t do this,” I said, turning back to my packing. “You’re leaving. I’m leaving. Let’s just leave it at that. I’m not invested in this right now, and it’s better that way.”

I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t.

“Brees,” he said softly. “Stop for a second.”

His hand closed around my arm.

I looked down at his fingers, then up at his face. “Let go, Keegan. I’m not doing this with you.”

I tried to avoid his stare because I felt the tears sitting at the edge of my lashes. The tears came anyway. They were hot, relentless. He tried to hug me. I pushed him away but he pulled me back towards him by my wrist. He grabbed me by my waist and embraced me. I resisted until my body betrayed me and collapsed into his. He sat in my large armchair and pulled me onto his lap, holding me while I cried.

“Baby,” he murmured, “please don’t cry. You know I hate seeing you like this.”

I pulled back, wiped my face. “Then why do you keep being the reason I do?”

He cupped my face. “This isn’t me choosing something else over you. I’m doing this so I can build a life—with you. Don’t you want that?”

Of course I did. I always had. Since I was nine, pretending to marry him in the clubhouse my dad built. Keegan had always been the dream—loving him, being loved back. But him being with Haven felt like she was stealing that dream right out from under me.

“I want you,” I said. “I want to sit in your lap and be your girlfriend. I want to come to your games, wear your jersey, be proud of you. But how am I supposed to do that like this?”

“Let me be clear,” he said. “This isn’t me choosing her. It’s me choosing me. I need to do this.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re choosing her?” I asked. “Why does it hurt this badly? I thought I was over you. One night, and I’m back in your web. How does that even happen?”

He shook his head. “This,” he gestured between us, “has nothing to do with her. She isn’t you.”

His hand slid into my hair, pulling me closer. “Brees, I’m going to kiss you. Please stop me if you don’t want me to.”

“Please, Kee,” I breathed.

I knew the consequences that this kiss would bring. I knew I should pull away and tell him no.

I didn’t stop him.

The kiss was slow, heavy. I tasted love and fear and everything unfinished. It wasn’t a new beginning. It was a goodbye. The kind you feel in your bones. Each soft press of his mouth felt like closure we never meant to have. I didn’t want it to end because I knew it might be the last time.

When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads rested together, his heart racing beneath my palm.

“This isn’t over,” he said.

“What isn’t?” I asked, eyes still closed.

“Us.”