He hesitated for the space of two heartbeats before he said, "Don't kiss me as if it's goodbye, Lily. Don't do that to me again. Just promise me that."
I squeezed my eyes shut and I shook my head. "I'm not saying goodbye." I just want you to be able to, if you decide you cannot live the kind of life I'd give you.
His hands came up to my face, and he pressed his lips to mine. He slid his tongue into my mouth and I sighed, the sound of pleasure mingled with sweet relief, with hope. It seemed that, in so many ways, I knew him better with my eyes closed—I remembered the taste of his mouth, his skin. I remembered the sounds he made when he was causing me to lose control, and the sounds he made when he was losing it himself. I remembered the feel of his body pressing into mine, and the way he trembled against me. We kissed and kissed, sitting on his couch, becoming familiar with each other once again, and it felt like coming home.
When I finally pulled away, I said, "I have to get back. My grandmother's expecting me." But I didn't move, instead kept nuzzling his jaw, his ear.
"You don't have to go. You could just stay here and we could . . . talk some more," he said, not moving either, moving his lips back to mine and kissing me again. I smiled against his lips.
"No, I really have to go. I don't want to, but I have to," I murmured, finally pulling back and meeting his eyes. "And, Ryan, if you think about us and decide it isn't right, if you decide we shouldn't be together, I won't blame you." I kissed him once quickly on his lips and then on his forehead, both eyes. "I'll understand, and I'll love you anyway. I'll love you, but I'll let you go . . . again."
"God, Lily," he said, rubbing his own lips on my forehead, "I already—"
"No. Please, take some time. I only ask that. I need to know you've taken some time. Please."
He nodded, more sure, and pulled away to give me room. "Yes, okay. Okay. I will. I promise."
I gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand, bringing it up to my heart and holding it there for a moment before letting it go. With shaky legs, I moved toward the door. My body wanted to stay. My heart wanted to stay. But I knew at that moment, I needed to go, and as Ryan slowly led me to the door—holding my hand within his—I knew he understood. When he opened the door, I walked through. I couldn't bring myself to look back. If he chose to let me go, it meant that I'd just left my heart behind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ryan
The contemporary one-level home was visible from the top of a set of darkly stained wooden steps that leveled out to a deck wrapping around the front of the house. I began descending, taking in the incredible view. From where I was standing, I could see the Golden Gate and the Bay Bridges, San Francisco, and Sausalito. The sun was just beginning to set, the sky burning with red and orange fire. The view alone had to be worth a cool million. Quite the rental home.
When I got to the front door, I knocked twice. After a moment, I heard footsteps and a few seconds after that, the door opened to reveal Lily's grandmother. "Hello, Mrs. Corsella," I said. She only looked mildly surprised.
"Ryan."
I waited for a beat. "Is Lily home?"
"No, she's not."
Disappointment hit me. "Oh." I frowned. I hadn't anticipated her not being here. I had tried to call her on the way over and she hadn't answered, but it was dinnertime and I figured she might be busy with that. Or maybe she really was here and her grandmother was lying to me. "Do you know where I can find her?"
"Ryan, please come in." I hesitated. I hardly wanted a lecture right now on why Lily and I shouldn't be together. I'd taken a second day off work and spent it doing just as Lily had asked me to do: thinking about us. I sighed and stepped over the threshold of the door she was now holding open. I followed her to a formal living room to the left, directly off the small front entryway.
She took a seat in an off-white wingback chair, and I sat down on the couch. I waited for her to speak first. "Lily told me this morning that she confided in you about her . . . past. Her situation."
Her situation. "Yes, Lily told me about her life, her illness," I said. "I accept everything about her."
Her grandmother stared at me for several moments, her look assessing, but not cold. "You accept her." She was silent again for a moment. "Do you really even know what that means? Do you understand what it's like to love someone like Lily?"
Someone like Lily. Someone like me. "Yes, it's the best thing that's ever happened to me," I said, putting the conviction into my words that I felt in my heart.