Woodvale is. I know that leaving would be madness.”
“You don’t know that it would be madness for me, though. How can you possibly know that?”
I close my eyes, pressing the pads of my fingers into the hot mug between my hands. It burns, but at least it draws the ache away from my chest.
“Kit,” I whisper. “I don’t want to be with you.”
It’s a lie. A bold-faced, pants-on-fire, one-hundred-percent untruth. The only thing I truly want is to be with Kit. The only thing that makes my heart thump is his presence. The only light in my life is his smile.
But I love Kit enough to know that moving here would kill him. I know that if we were together, he’d want a big family—what if I can’t give it to him? What if my miscarriage happens again, and again, and again? I’ll take him away from his home and his friends, and then I’ll strip him of the ability to have his own family. It’s too much. Kit has a big heart, but that will bleed it dry.
Duty is keeping me here, but I won’t drag him down with me.
I take a deep breath. “I know you want a family, but I don’t.” My words falter, but I push on. “I don’t want kids, and I’m not ready for a relationship. I don’t want to be with you.”
Kit’s face crumples, his breath shallow. He reaches across the table for me, but I pull away. His touch holds too much power. If I feel his skin against mine, I know my resolve will weaken. Hurt etches itself on Kit’s face when I shy away from his touch, as if that one movement pained him more than any of my words. He straightens up, clearing his throat. His fingers rake through his hair as his eyes, unfocused and hazy, stare at something on the other side of the café.
“You’re serious right now?”
I nod. I can’t speak.
His chest heaves, and my heart shatters. I close my eyes, telling myself over and over that it’s for the best. It’s the kinder thing to do. It’s what love really is—doing something for the other person when it sucks so fucking hard for yourself.
Kit lets out a long breath, shifting in his seat. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
I open my eyes to see him standing up. He takes a step toward the door, pausing beside me. For a moment, I think he might lean down and kiss me. I want him to lean down and kiss me. I want to unravel the conversation we just had and erase it from both our memories. Throw away thoughts of chivalry and doing the ‘right’ thing, and just wrap my arms around him and tell him he’s my whole world.
But Kit only hesitates for a moment. His hand hovers over my shoulder, never touching me, and then drops back to his side. He stalks away from me, the bells on the café door jingling as he walks outside and out of my life.
Dropping my chin to my chest, I let tears flow down my cheeks. I use scratchy, brown napkins to wipe the moisture off my face, but still more tears fall.
Doing the right thing feels like the biggest mistake of my life.
29
Kit
This isn’t real. I wander down the streets, seeing nothing. Not the historic buildings or the people rushing to and from work. Not the bare trees that have lost their leaves, or the sprinkling of snow that starts to fall from the sky.
I’m in a daze.
I end up near a big park, the green space crisscrossed with black asphalt paths. I stare as snow flutters onto the asphalt, the flakes melting into the black.
She doesn’t want to be with me. The words came out of Serena’s mouth, clear as day—but they still don’t quite make sense. How can she call me every single day and tell me she misses me? How can she laugh at my jokes and melt into my kiss, then turn around and tell me it’s not what she wants?
It makes no sense.
My shoes scuff on the ground as I make my way to a park bench. I sit down, staring at a tall monument in the middle of the park, seeing nothing. Vaguely, I register that my ass is wet from sitting on this snow-covered bench, but I don’t care. A couple walks past, arm in arm, and I feel sick. The girl has a fluffy hat on, laughing at something