I try not to think what it could mean for us.

But I am hoping against hope that something has changed here. I know I’m a fool to think this, but I can’t help myself.

I wish for more, not what we had because I know I can never get that back, but something new with him.

I’d just be happy to have anything of Adam, anything he’s willing to give me.

I run my fingers down his side, causing him to laugh against my mouth. I love the sound. He always was ticklish there.

“I should clean up. I just don’t want to move.”

“So, don’t.” I stroke my fingers down his back.

He lifts his head and stares into my eyes.

I see something change in them, something that leaves me feeling cold. It’s almost like he’s switching off on me.

Desperate to keep him with me, I press my lips to his, kissing him. He kisses me back, but it doesn’t feel the same.

I’ve lost him.

Shutting my eyes, I draw back from him.

He pulls out of me and sits on the edge of the bed. His back is rigid.

“Talk to me,” I say softly.

He glances back at me, his expression closed off. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“What about what I saw…the things in your old room?”

His face darkens, his brows pulling together. “I told you downstairs that I didn’t want to talk about it. That hasn’t changed.” He gets up from the bed and walks over to the chest of drawers. He pulls open a drawer and gets out a pair of running shorts.

“Why won’t you talk about it?” I ask, sitting up, pulling the sheet up and around me.

“Because what’s the fucking point?” He pulls the shorts on with tense, jerky movements.

“The point is, we can’t keep avoiding stuff all the time, like those things in there.” I point to the wall. “And about what’s going on here, between us.”

He slams the drawer shut. Then, he grips the top of the dresser with his hands, his head bowed forward. “Nothing is going on between us.” The words come out gritted.

And they hurt like a bitch. But I don’t show it.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” I shift onto my knees, facing him. “Just talk to me. Tell me why you kept my things all these years.”

“Why do you fucking think?” He spins around to face me, his eyes wide with anger. “For the same reason I keep coming back and having sex with you all the damn time. Because I never got over you! I’ve spent the last ten years of my life pining away over you like an idiot while you moved on to a brand-new life, doing God knows what, fucking God knows who!”

I don’t why, but instead of feeling guilt, his words incense me.

Maybe it’s because of an article I read a few days ago. It was an old article, but I regretted reading it the moment I did. It talked about the upturn in Gunner Entertainment’s success since Adam took over the helm. I was proud of him while reading it until I got to the part where it said he was as successful in business as he was with women.

“You’ve hardly been pining.” I sound bitter and jealous. Maybe it’s because I am. “I know there have been other women over the years, Adam. A lot of other women.” The second I say it, I know that it was the wrong thing to say.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” His voice is low but as deadly as a striking cobra. “You don’t get to comment on how I’ve been living my life while you’ve been gone. You left me, remember? And so what if I fucked other women? I was free to do so. Yeah, I fucked them, hundreds of them, and I loved every minute. And you know what, Evie? Every single one of them was better than you, even the bad fucks.”

A sob breaks from me. I press my hand to my mouth, as tears start to run down my cheeks.

“Does that hurt, Evie? Does it feel like your chest is cracking wide open, and you’re bleeding out? Because if it does, then you’re getting a little taste of how I’ve felt every single day for the last ten years!” he roars at me. “Only difference here is, you knew where I was. You could have come back anytime. And you know what? I would have taken you back in a second, like the dumb fuck I am. But me?” He slams a hand against his chest. “I was left with nothing! No fucking clue where you were, what you were doing, or who you were doing it with!”

“I wasn’t doing anything with anyone!” I yell, fighting back. “There hasn’t been anyone since you! There has only ever been you!”

He stills, his eyes boring into mine.

“There’s—” His voice cracks. “There’s been no one…else?”

I look away. “No.”

“Why not?” His voice is almost a whisper.

Gathering my courage, I force my eyes back to him. The look on his face has softened a little, and it gives me the nerve to say the truth. “Because I never got over you. I didn’t want to let you go, so I could never move on.”

“Jesus, Evie,” he breathes out. He roughly rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands. Then, he pushes his fingers into his hair. “None of this makes sense. Why did you leave me in the first place?”

That’s the question I can never answer.

Shaking my head, I stare down at my hands.

I hear him sigh. He’s frustrated because he knows I won’t answer.

“I’m sorry…for what I said before,” I speak quietly. “I should never have said what I did about you and other women.” I nearly choke on the words that have been burning me from the inside out since he first spoke them. “You were right when you said I had no right to pass comment on the way you lived your life.”

And I’m sorry for everything. For hurting you all those years ago. For hurting you now.

“Evie.” He takes a step toward the bed, bringing him closer to me.

I lift my eyes to him. He looks tired, weary. But he’s still beautiful, so very beautiful that it hurts sometimes. And one of those times is now.

“What I said about those…women…I shouldn’t have said it because it’s not true. I was just angry. And…I wanted to hurt you.”

You did.

“All those women…” Dragging his hand through his hair, he lets out a solemn-sounding breath. “They were all just temporary replacements for you. It was all I could do to cope with losing you. I might have been sleeping with them, but it was always your face I saw, your…void I was trying to fill.” He looks past me, his eyes on the wall behind me.

I’m trying to process what he just told me. Emotions hang heavy between us.

Hearing him say that about those women, that they were replacements for me, doesn’t make it hurt any less. The thought of him with anyone else kills me.

But I made the choice to leave him, so I only have myself to blame.

“I don’t know what to say,” I utter softly, my fingers gripping the bedsheet surrounding me.

He blows out a breath, a solemn laugh escaping him. “Me neither. I just…I don’t know what to do anymore, Evie.”

He slowly brings his eyes back to mine, and the look in them terrifies me.

He looks lost and desolate, but most of all, he looks like he’s given up.

Please don’t give up on me…on us.