much, and I wanted to forget, even for just a few minutes. I wanted to leave behind the dark weight of my loss and feel something else. Something good.
I walked over to Sean and buried my face in his chest, my arms banded around his chest, holding on to his solid warmth. I could feel his heart beating.
He pressed a hand to the back of my head, silently keeping me in place. After several breaths, he spoke up. “Libby? What is it?”
I pulled back so that I could look at him. His eyes were so full of concern and compassion, so ready to do anything for me to try to make it better. I could only think of one way to make it better, one way to chase away the pain. My hands fisted into his shirt at his sides and I pulled, my eyes fixated on his lips.
It was slow motion. It was a fraction of an inch at a time that we came together. Reluctant, but inevitable. I broke my gaze to check the look in his eyes. They were pools of fire and confusion and so much restraint.
“Libby?” His voice was barely audible. “Are you sure you—” I cut off his words by pulling his mouth down to meet mine. I was done with reluctance and restraint.
I wanted to dive into this moment and lose myself in it. I wanted him to make me forget about everything that was hurting inside me. But when his lips started moving against mine, they felt…different. Not bad, but just different. Not Jonas. I was so surprised by the incongruity that I slowed and just let myself feel.
And what I started to feel…was overwhelming. Because the way that Sean kissed me was like…he worshipped me. Adoration and gentle passion poured off of him. The fingers that grazed down my cheek quivered as his other hand pressed into my back. Pulling me closer.
The enormity of his love for me crashed into my chest and suddenly I felt like a terrible person.
Guilt poured in. I was using him. Like some sort of numbing drug, I was using Sean to chase away my pain because I knew he would. I knew how he felt and I was taking advantage of that.
I pulled my mouth away from his and buried my face in his chest. My breath was labored, not just from the kiss, but from the effort required to keep my panic at bay. “I’m sorry,” I practically squeaked.
His chest rose and fell. His breath was labored and his pulse quick. “What are you sorry about?”
“That was wrong of me. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” I pulled out of his arms and fled to my room, a hand clamped over my mouth.
How many times would I run from him? How many times would he put up with it?
Sinking onto my bed, I had a total meltdown. Heaving sobs of confusion and humiliation.
And guilt.
I loved Jonas. Still.
But I may have loved Sean too.
He knocked on my door. “Libby,” he pleaded.
I pounded my fist into the mattress beside me. “You can’t help with this, Sean. Please just go home.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You want to talk about fair?” I cried, feeling I was quite an expert on unfair, seeing as how I was pregnant and widowed.
“Yes, I do,” he called through the door. “I’ve given you space. Lots of space. I’ve let you throw your walls up whenever you needed to. I’ve backed away, again and again, but that…” The pause was bloated and uncomfortable. “That was not just about you. That was about me too, so can you please just…talk to me?”
I didn’t answer, hoping my stubbornness would drive him away and delay this conversation.
“Why did you do that?” I could hear the ache in his voice, even through the door. “And then why did you run away? Just tell me which one was real. Did…did the kiss mean something? Because it wasn’t muscle memory this time. This wasn’t a goodbye peck on the mouth. I can’t relegate that kiss to a mistake, Libby. Did you mean it when you kissed me? Or did you mean it when you pushed me away?”
“Both!” I could say that with perfect confidence.
“How can it be both?” He shook the door handle and pounded once on the door.
I shut my eyes, wincing. Hating that I had done something so unfair to him. But I tried to answer the question. “It’s both because I did want to kiss you. I