The Best of Winter Renshaw - An 8 Book Collection - Winter Renshaw Page 0,683

hot and splayed on the door as I rise on my toes to peer through the peephole.

It only takes a second for me to realize exactly who’s standing on the other side of my door. A warmth blooms in my cheeks and my heart flutters. I try to tell my body to calm down, but it won’t listen.

Pulling the door open a second later, I wipe all signs of emotion from my expression and lock eyes on his.

“Yes?” I ask.

“You came to my door yesterday, demanding an answer to the one question that’d been eating you up inside,” he says, “and now it’s my turn.”

Last night when I was trying to leave, when I felt a wave of tears beginning to crest and threaten to crash over me, I bolted out of there. I’d yet to cry over him and I refused to let the first time be right there, standing in his living room after I’d managed to keep a brave front until then.

Pulling in a sharp breath, I explore his dusty green irises, feeling the swell in my chest and the twist in my stomach all at once.

“Fine,” I say. I don’t invite him in.

Jude licks his full lips, his eyes capturing mine. “When you told me you loved me that day … did you mean it?”

I hesitate, and when I try to answer, the right words escape me.

“Did you mean it, Love?” he asks again, chin slightly tucked and words spoken quickly, as if to lend a sense of urgency to his question.

I didn’t mean it at the time.

But after some time had passed, after my heart had been tugged in every which direction, I realized there was a part of me that was beginning to fall in love with him before it all fell apart.

My chest rises and falls, and I swallow the lump in my throat before answering him.

“No,” I say.

Jude exhales, his shoulders straightening and the space above his jaw flexing. He studies me a moment longer, his stare intense, like this is the last time he’s ever going to see me and he wants to ingrain this into his memory.

“That’s all I needed to know,” he says a few seconds later. “Goodbye, Love.”

Before I have a chance to say anything, he’s already halfway down the hall. I don’t stick around to watch him step into the elevator. Instead, I return inside and lock the door, resting my back against it when I realize my chest is so tight it hurts to breathe.

It’s over now, this time for good, but I thought it would feel different. I thought I’d feel lighter. Instead, there’s this gnawing emptiness, like a vacant cavity where my heart should be. All that hurt and animosity has taken a back burner.

Rushing to the living room window, I press my fingers on the glass and watch for him to come out from beneath the awning.

A minute passes, then another, and eventually five.

He should’ve left the building by now.

I’m not sure how he got in here in the first place, given the fact that he claimed to be blacklisted, but maybe someone noticed him? Or maybe he had to sneak out through the courtyard exit?

Either way, he’s gone, and still, I can’t bring myself to step away from the window on the off chance I might see him one more last time.

My hands tremble and my mind grows loud, recalling all the things Lo said, the things Cameo shared with me, the forlorn look in Jude’s eyes every time he’s apologized to me. When he told me last night that he misses me every day, that he thinks about me all the time, I didn’t let those words soak in then, but I close my eyes and hear them all over again.

And when I finally accept that I feel the same way, I find the answer I’ve been searching for this entire time: I can hate what he did, but I don’t have to hate him.

I know, now, what I need to do.

Fifty

Jude

* * *

Love’s quarter is sandwiched between my thumb and forefinger, the metal still warm from my pocket. Sitting at a park bench by the fountain, I watch the water spill over the top of the marble umbrella, and I take in the view of the smiling, rain-drenched couple one last time.

I came here for an answer, and that’s exactly what she gave me.

It’s time to let her go. And honestly? She was never mine to have in the first