You Know I Love You (You Are Mine #3) - Willow Winters Page 0,5

believe you’ve cheated on me? What could you possibly gain?” Each question gets louder as the words rush out of my mouth. I’m ashamed of how much passion there is in my voice. How much of my pain is on display.

In stark contrast is how little pain he shows and I don’t miss how he hasn’t budged. He hasn’t made a single move to come to me. So I stay planted in my seat as well.

I know why he doesn’t deny it, and it’s because it’s true. Years of just the two of us have shown me who he is and I know he’s not a liar, but he’s lying to me now. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. “It’s been weeks, hasn’t it?” I say, forcing out the words from between clenched teeth. This morning I couldn’t talk without screaming. Without slamming my fists into the table, making it shake and causing a glass of water to fall and shatter on the hardwood floors.

I reached my breaking point when he looked me in the eye and told me there was nothing to that picture. I refuse to listen when he lies; not when he does such a horrible job of it.

“Stop it, Kat,” Evan commands firmly and his voice is harsh and unforgiving, like I’m the one in the wrong.

“Oh, I see,” I respond, raising a brow and feeling a sick smile tug at my lips. “You can cheat, you can lie, but I should be quiet and give you a kiss on the way out to go do whatever you want to do?”

“Don’t do this,” he says with a rawness that makes my heart clench.

“Then tell me what happened. I know something did.” He’s been distant, even cold toward me ever since he came home.

A moment passes and I lose my composure again, bared to him in every way as I wait for an answer. But I don’t get the one thing I need. The truth. Or a believable lie.

“I have to go,” is all he says as he gathers his luggage. Slinging a black duffle bag over one shoulder, gripping a suitcase with his other hand, he adds, “I love you.”

He says the words without looking at me.

I love you.

It hurts so damn much because he knows I love him. He knows it and he throws the words back at me like it doesn’t matter that he’s risking it all.

“If you won’t tell me the truth,” I say lowly as I stare at the table, pushing out the words and feeling each one slice open the cut in my heart that much deeper, “then don’t bother coming back.” My throat tightens and my lungs refuse to fill as silence is all that answers me.

There’s only a slight hesitation, a small creaking sound as he adjusts his grip on the luggage. That’s all I get. That’s it. The creak of the floorboards that’s barely heard over my racing heart.

He leaves without attempting to kiss me or approaching me in the least. His strides don’t break in cadence until the heavy walnut front door opens and closes, leaving me with nothing but the tortured sob that’s desperate to come up and the faint sounds of the city life filling the empty space once again.

My hands tremble as I close my eyes and try to calm down.

If he really loved me, he wouldn’t have let it come to this.

If he loved me, he’d tell me the truth.

Secrets break up marriages.

I keep telling myself that he’s to blame, but as a cry rips up my throat and I bring my knees into my chest, my heels resting on the seat of the chair, I replay the last few years and I know I’m at fault too. Deep down, I know. I bury my face in my knees and rock slightly, feeling pathetic as I break down yet again.

If I were him, I’d have cheated on me too.

He says he didn’t. He swears it’s a lie.

But he doesn’t explain it. He can’t even look me in the eye.

I did this to myself. I should’ve known better.

Evan

When did I turn into the piece of shit I am right now?

Pathetic. That’s how I feel as the plane rumbles beneath my feet and I shake my head slightly, waving off the flight attendant and whatever small bag of snacks she was offering.

I crack my neck to the left and right as a ding indicates the seat belt sign is off and