“What? You what?” I snarl. “You’re sorry? You don’t want to hear this? Well, you’re the one who just had to know.”
While I continue to level a hard stare at her, she takes a deep breath before letting it out slowly, her voice quiet. “What do you think it means, that you don’t have the same nightmare whenever I’m with you?” She pins me with an impenetrable look, moving off the bed, grabbing my discarded shirt from the floor and pulling it on.
“What does it mean that you can sleep beside me, through the entire night, and not be woken by the replay of those events?” Her head tips to the side. “Did you honestly think I would judge you, Foster? Do you really think so little of me? Think I’m stupid?”
My head jerks back. “Of course not.”
“Then why would you think all this would make me look at you differently?” There’s a crease between her eyebrows displaying her confusion. Rolling her lips inward, she adds, “Did you think this would make me see you differ—”
Waving my hand, I cut her off because the expression on her face is making me uneasy. “Look, I shouldn’t have unloaded on you and I’m sorry for that. But it just confirms I shouldn’t have started anything with you. It was selfish of me because you’re the one thing—the only thing—that’s brought me peace. Just by being with you and sleeping with you in my arms.”
Resting my eyes on her, I fight against the hint of sadness trying to break free. “If I could give you even half of what you deserve, I would. But I’m not that man. I want you to know,” I clear my throat at the sight of the desolate look in her eyes, “you deserve more—more than me. But I can’t offer you the love or the life you deserve.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Noelle
Cautiously stepping closer to Foster, it feels like how I would imagine I would approach a skittish animal in the wild. “Foster,” I pause, trying to choose my words carefully, “I accept you. Just as you are—imperfections and all. And none of it—not anything you’ve ever done, whether for your country or otherwise—changes that. You’re a good man, Foster Kavanaugh.”
His laugh is humorless and full of disbelief and disgust. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not. Hell,” he pauses, roughly running a hand over his face, “I’m not the man for you. Especially not for you. You deserve a good guy who can give you marriage, the white picket fence, the two point five kids. And we all know I’m not the guy who can give any of that to you.”
Emotion clogs my throat. “If you don’t believe you’re good enough, then I doubt I can manage to convince you. If you don’t love me—if your heart doesn’t have the capability to love me—then I refuse to let it keep me from the one who will.” I take a small step back. “I once read somewhere that if you love someone, you should say it. That you shouldn’t keep it in your heart. Well, I’m say—”
“Don’t.” Foster’s tone is lethally quiet. “Don’t say it.”
I visibly flinch at the fact that he doesn’t want to hear it—doesn’t want me to tell him how I feel—my chest tightening painfully. “That’s what love is all about. It’s all a game of risk. Risking not being loved in return, right?” My throat grows tight with emotion. “But,” with a half shrug, I continue, “what’s life if you don’t risk anything? If you don’t hope and risk the failure of someone loving you back?
“I mean, God knows I have enough regrets about who I’ve spent—or wasted—my time on. But I can say I’ve followed through—I’ve followed my heart.” My lips press thin in an attempt to maintain composure. “I won’t ever regret following my heart this time because … it led me to you.” I lift one shoulder in a weak shrug. “Even though you don’t love me back, I can’t ever regret this. Because I know what love really feels like. Even though it’s not returned, this love—the real thing—doesn’t make me feel inadequate or beaten down. Not once has it made me feel that way. And maybe one day I’ll find this feeling again—with someone who actually feels the same.”
I glance down at my feet, attempting to will away the tears threatening to fall before raising my eyes back up to his. “You’re wrong about one thing, though. You’re capable of loving. You may think you’re not or you might think you’re not worthy of love but you’re so very wrong. Your mother, your sister, your friends all love you more than anything in this world—would do anything for you. And many of them don’t love easily, but they love you.