I nodded. “That’s it.”
“Okay,” she whispered, dropping her chin. A tear fell, landing in a scuff of snow by her boot.
My hand reached for her on instinct, but I forced it back and into my pocket. “I’ll go. Do you want me to take Ryder?”
She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her stomach. “No. Let him stay.”
I opened my mouth to tell her good-bye but the words wouldn’t come. My feet wouldn’t move off the edge of the deck, because the moment I stepped off, this would be over.
I took one last long look at Willa, the woman who’d given me the best summer of my life, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t respond. She didn’t look at me.
She just let me go.
I stepped off the deck, nearly collapsing as a lead weight settled on my shoulders. My boots were so heavy I had to practically drag my feet across the yard and onto the school’s property.
Every step I took, I got colder. I felt sicker.
This feeling was the reason I didn’t get close to people. This was the reason it was better to live alone. It hurt too much to say good-bye. It was damn near crippling.
I walked faster, angry at myself and this entire situation. And I was angry at Willa for making me feel this way.
Why had she waited so long for me? Why had she made me crave her? Why couldn’t she have gone to college and met her future husband? That way, I never would have known her. She would have always just been Willow.
This was just as much her fault as it was mine.
My strides got longer as I played the irrational blame game. I didn’t play for long. I wanted to be mad at Willa, but I couldn’t.
She was innocent, just a victim of my fucked-up life.
Maybe I wasn’t so different from Melissa Page after all. I’d stolen a page from her playbook today, making sure that I was never the one in the rearview mirror again.
I’d almost reached the swing set when an angry word rang across the playground.
“No.”
What? My feet stopped and I spun around.
Willa was right behind me, not five feet away. Had she been following me this whole time?
“Willa—”
“No,” she cut me off again, closing the distance between us.
“No, what?”
“No, you don’t get to leave.”
I sighed. “Go home, Willa.” Please go home. I didn’t have it in me to say no if she asked me to stay.
She looked up at me with a defiance like nothing I’d ever seen before. She looked fierce and bold and beautiful.
And she told me, “No.”
“Why are you doing this?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Because I want an explanation.”
“And I just gave you one.”
“It wasn’t good enough.”
Her chin rose as she spoke. She stood taller today since her knee-high boots gave her a few extra inches. I still towered over her, but her stance was almost intimidating. When had she gotten this backbone? She never challenged me on, well . . . anything.
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“Why don’t you want to get married?”
I shrugged. “Because I don’t. I never have.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t.”
“Is it because you don’t believe in marriage? Or because you don’t want to make a commitment?”
My hands fisted. “No.”
“Then what?” Her voice was getting louder. She was as frustrated as I was. “Why don’t you want to get married? You said it wasn’t me, so why? Because the way I see it . . . you either don’t want to get married to me and you’re lying. Or you are just scared.”
Should I lie? Should I tell her I didn’t want to marry her?
It would be pointless. She’d see right through my bullshit, and I couldn’t do that to her. Some sick part of me wanted Willa to love me—just a little—even after this was over.
“It’s not you,” I confessed.
“Then you’re scared. Why?”
“Why does not wanting to get married mean I’m scared?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re scared.”
“I’m not scared, Willa.”
“Then what?” She uncrossed her arms, throwing up her hands. “Why? I want to know why.”
“I don’t know why!” I shouted. “Okay? I don’t know why. I just know that I don’t want to get married. I don’t want to feel trapped.”
“So you feel like I trap you?”
I sighed. “No.”
“But you just said that being married would mean you’d be trapped. Is that what you think about all marriages? Do you think Thea feels trapped by Logan? Or my dad feels trapped by my mom?”
“No.”
“Then your reason is shit.”
I jerked back and frowned. She rarely cussed and it always took me by surprise.
“I don’t know what else to say, Willa. I don’t want to get married. I don’t want kids. I’m not going to be the guy who takes those things away from you.”
“So you’re doing all this to set me free?”
“Yes.” I closed the space between us. “I’m not husband material. Or father material. Go. Be with someone who is.”
She searched my eyes, trying to decide if I was telling the truth. Every passing second was killing me.
Walk away, babe. Just walk away.
“No,” she whispered.
“Please.” I closed my eyes. “Please. Go.”
“Just tell me why.”
“I don’t know.” It was the truth. “I don’t know anything about being a husband or a father. I don’t know how to love. What I do know is that people walk out more often than they stay. I don’t want to be the guy who walks out on his family. You need someone you can depend on. That’s not me. Eventually, I’ll let you down. I’ll fuck all of this up.”
All of the confidence in her face vanished and her shoulders drooped. “So you’re worried you’re going to leave me and break my heart, yet here you are, leaving me and breaking my heart. That doesn’t make any sense.”
No, it really didn’t. But it was the right thing to do. “I don’t know how to love you.”
With that, she dropped her chin. When her shoulders began to shake, the pain in my heart multiplied tenfold. I couldn’t handle it when she cried. I couldn’t breathe. All I wanted to do was pull her into my arms and promise it would be okay, but since I couldn’t make that promise, I had to stand here and watch.
A sound escaped her mouth and she slapped a hand over her lips. Her hair had fallen in front of her face, shielding it from me.
“Please, just go insi—”
She threw her head back and laughed.
She’s laughing?
She was, and loud. The entire playground echoed with it as she dropped her hand from her mouth. The pain on her face from thirty seconds ago was gone. Instead, she wore a wide smile full of triumphant joy.
It was beautiful but damn hard to look at. She was happy I was letting her go? Never in a million years would I have expected her to be relieved, and fuck did it hurt. But I guess it would make everything easier, wouldn’t it?
She looked back at me, the smile still on her face, and she shook her head. “I was right.”
“Right about what?”
“You’re scared.” She stopped laughing and swiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. “You love me and it scares you to death. Not because you’re worried that you’ll leave me. But because you’re terrified I’ll leave you, just like everyone else has always done.”
“That’s not—I’m doing this for you.”
She rolled her eyes and guffawed.
Was I scared? Maybe I was. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was terrified that she’d crumble my heart into a thousand pieces. But the fact still remained.
“You deserve more than me.”
She shook her head, closing the remaining space between us. She put her hands on my chest and locked her eyes with mine. “There is no more than you.”
“Willa—”
“Do you love me?”
Her question sent ice through my veins. Pure. Petrifying. Ice. I wanted to lie and run away. I wanted to tell her no and be done with this. But with her blue eyes searching mine, only one word came to mind.
“Yes.”
The corner of her mouth turned up. “I knew it.”