"What are we going to do then?” he asked after a moment. Arms crossed, he leaned against the wall, his face impassive, distant. As cold as when they'd first met.
She studied him. Anger she could cope with. Frustration and bitterness she could understand. But this?
“About what?"
"You and me, Nikki. What else are we talking about?” His voice was lifeless, his thoughts a vast desert. She met his gaze, uncertain what he wanted from her. He'd stated his intention of leaving so very clearly, and so often, she had no doubt that he would. And yet he obviously needed—or wanted—something from her. “There is no you and me. You said that yourself." He simply stared at her. She shuffled her feet like some errant child and finally looked away. Because, deep down, she knew. He wanted her to confront what she felt, and that was the one course she could not take. Because she was a coward, and because her love had always signaled death. Vampire or not, he could die.
Better to live a lifetime alone than face the weight of one more death on her conscience. Only now, it wasn't just one lifetime she had to face, was it?
"I don't know what else you want me to say, Michael."
"And therein lies our problem.” He pushed away from the wall. “Perhaps the fault is mine. Perhaps I simply expect too much."
She stared at him. Did he want a lie? How could she admit to loving him when she wasn't sure?
And what good would it do, when he intended to leave anyway?
She blinked back sudden tears. Once she had told such a lie. It had led her and Tommy down a path to destruction. His life had slipped as quickly through her fingers as his blood, and she'd vowed never, ever to again admit to feelings she wasn't sure about.
"I'm not Tommy, Nikki. I'm not your damn parents or anyone else. I'm me. And I just want you to admit the truth, if only to yourself."
I can't. Don't you understand that? I can't!
"Then I truly must go."
She was losing him. Fear squeezed her heart tight, almost suffocating her. Afraid to love him, yet afraid to lose him. What a laugh.
"Perhaps this time is wrong for us,” he said, dark eyes gentle. “Perhaps this was a fire always destined to flare brightly and die."