time I admit openly that I was in love with him. That it hurt when he called it off.
“I had no idea,” he says, standing up from his seat. He walks back and forth. “If I had known—but you wouldn’t have admitted it, would you?”
“What does that even mean?” I argue.
“You never tell people how you feel, Grace!” His voice echoes through the studio. “You didn’t stop me.”
“Because what if what happened to Mom and her first love happened to us? They were best friends…” I stop for a second, trying to remember if she ever told me about her relationship with that guy. She didn’t. I don’t even know his name. “I think.”
He groans. “Of course, it was your mom and her fables.”
I could argue about Mom, but the part that’s making me furious is that he said I never tell people how I feel. “Are you calling me frigid? Emotionless? What is it that you implied by I never tell people how I feel?”
I’m so mad. I stand up and walk toward him. My chin tilts up, and I dare him to tell me the truth. “Is that what you think about me? That I’m devoid of emotions?”
The way his eyes transform takes my breath away. They darken with anger and need. He lifts me by the waist, pushes me against the wall, and presses his body against mine. Our noses almost touch. I can feel his shallow breath caressing my face.
“No, you confine all your feelings inside your music,” he says, nipping my ear. “I know your soul, your heart. I feel your music—every note. That’s the only way you handle them. This mess is my fault, but you are responsible too. If you had told me…”
I shiver as his teeth pull my earlobe gently. “There’s no point in discussing the shit that went wrong between us. It’s killing me to know that I broke your heart. If it makes you feel any better, I broke mine too.”
Who do we blame for this?
My father, the circumstances, or our ages. Maybe we were too young, inexperienced, and afraid.
We’re usually pretty daring.
He’s bold, courageous, and spirited.
I’m not as audacious as him, though. He’s one of the few crazy people I know who’d walk toward open fire to catch the bad guys. Our biggest fear is to lose each other.
“What now?”
“Don’t leave,” he begs me. “I need this time. You want to know why I was hammered for three days? I thought you had found the guy, and that was it. I had lost you forever.”
He wouldn’t lose me. It takes me a second to realize what he’s saying. He’s not afraid of losing me as a friend. My heart is confused. I’m sad because he spent two days mourning a loss. Upset because he could’ve avoided it if we had talked—but it’s not that simple, is it?
“So, what’s going to happen when your sabbatical is over? When you have to go back to your fans? When I go back to my life?”
“I’ll quit everything that comes between us,” he assures me, slanting his mouth on top of mine, running his tongue along the seam, parting my lips. A spark ignites, starting a wildfire burning through us while we kiss deeply, passionately.
“You are my life. Nothing else matters to me but you. Let me show you, Grace. Let me make up for what I did.”
He kisses the center of my chest. “I’ll gather all the shattered pieces and put them together. I promise never to break it again.”
Forgiveness is so complicated. I don’t think it’s going to happen instantly. I don’t even know who I have to forgive—or to blame. There’s my father, Beacon, the circumstances, and I’m the cause of my own pain.
“I choose to stay and to grow,” I answer. “To learn from the circumstances that kept us apart while our hearts heal. Also, I’m staying because I made a commitment to Leyla and your brothers.”
“Thank you for never giving up on me, even when I always fuck up.”
My heart hurts so much because this man always thinks that everything is his fault.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Grace
“Why do you do that?”
“Apologize?” he says.
I glare at him. He’s infuriating when he pretends to be dense.
“I—”
Before he continues talking, we get interrupted by Dad’s ringtone. I silence it and focus my attention back on Beacon. It rings again.
“You should take that.”
“He can wait.”
Beacon laughs. “Yeah, right. If you don’t answer now, he’s going to call me. If I ignore him, he’ll send whoever