cut our losses and go our separate ways.”
“You’ve grown bored?”
“Sure, let’s call it that.” The sheen glittering in her eyes states otherwise.
“You’re not convincing anyone. Least of all, me.” The metaphorical clock is ticking loud enough to make me sweat. I shove my fists into my pockets and fix her with an unflinching stare. “I’ve been a shitty human for too many years, sugar. It’s damn time I own up to it. There are bullshit excuses from my childhood that I can throw at you. My father was verbally abusive, among other atrocities I’d rather not reminisce about. Long story short, I could never falter or be caught doing less than he saw fit. I’ve come to terms with that, so digging deep into my feelings isn’t necessary. My overpriced therapist heard plenty, trust me. I talked his ear off for years growing up.”
She’s rooted in place, gazing at me with wide eyes. “Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”
The temperature spikes several degrees from the impact of her undivided attention. “All right, fine. You caught me. I compartmentalized all the shit my dad did and blew off the shrink. He tried to crush me, but I escaped relatively unscathed. I turned out all right, considering.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Vannah is trying to hold her snark in place, but that soft reply betrays her.
I release the breath I’d been holding. “I’m not telling you this to get your pity.”
“Good”—she sniffs and looks away—“because I wasn’t giving you any.”
My pulse is booming, nearing deafening levels, but there’s no quitting now. “The fact of the matter is that I allowed his influence to dictate the person I am today. I’ve denied that for damn near a decade, but it’s the truth. It took you constantly butting heads with me, you questioning me, you demanding more from me, you never letting me get the final word, and you walking away from me to finally break loose from the mold. It took you, Vannah. If nothing else comes from this, I need to thank you for giving me that freedom.”
She tucks her chin, stealing those bottomless green pools from me. “That’s a very sweet speech, and I’m not sure how to respond. Coming from you, these sentiments are confusing. I’m glad you’re having this epiphany nonetheless.”
I nod while clearing the dryness from my throat. “That’s fair and completely understandable. I haven’t been kind to you these past two months.”
“No shit.” Her mutter is flat, but the corner of her lip twerks.
I keep my hands buried to stop from reaching for her. “Life really fucking sucks without you, sugar. My days are boring, and the nights are worse. I have no right to ask you for another chance, because I didn’t earn one in the first place. What I’m hoping to do is build a bridge and get over our shit.”
“Eloquent as always.”
“I’m not mincing words with you unless we’re bickering like an old married couple.”
“That’s a pleasant image.”
“Glad you agree.”
A laugh bounces her rigid posture, but it lacks any genuine warmth. “I really wasn’t.”
“We’ll work on that. I’m aware it doesn’t come naturally for us.”
Vannah snorts. “Don’t hold your breath. That will require patience we don’t possess.”
With a jut of my chin, I dismiss her retort. “I plan to grovel for however long it takes.”
She bites her bottom lip. “I hope you packed adequate padding for your knees.”
“There’s my snarky girl.”
“I’m not your anything.”
“Not officially. You just need to agree.”
“I’ll think about it.” She tilts her head to the side. “Maybe.”
The sliver she previously gave me splits into a gaping hole wide enough to walk through. I step toward her. “Give me a chance to prove that I’m worthy.”
“Of what?”
“Your love.”
She scoffs. “You assume that’s up for grabs.”
“If it’s not already, it will be soon. I’m going to charm your panties off.”
“How romantic.” Her tone suggests the opposite, but I’m not deterred.
“I’ll be good to you, Savannah.”
“While pretending we’re a couple,” she adds.
I swat that shit away with an open palm. “No, I want the real deal. The platinum version. Dates, cuddling, sleepovers, and kisses with morning breath.”
Vannah squints at me. “That’s really sappy.”
I snap my fingers and point at her. “Oh, breakfast in bed can go on the list. Pancakes in the shape of a heart? I’ll give you extra syrup.”
She rests a hand on her forehead. “What has gotten into you?”
“Feelings. A lot of them. Probably too many, if I’m being truthful. It’s all pouring out at once. I just needed the