I continue pacing the room. My heart is pounding like it wants out. I wish I could give it a way out. I’d set the mother-fucker free right now if I could.

Several minutes pass as I continue to pace. Ryle’s silence and my anger eventually just fold together into pain.

My tears have exhausted me. I am so tired of feeling. I fall desperately onto my bed and cry into my pillow. I press my face so hard against my pillow, I can barely breathe.

I feel Ryle lie down next to me. He places a gentle hand on the back of my head, attempting to sooth away the pain he’s causing me. My eyes are closed, still pressed into the pillow, but I feel him gently rest his head against mine.

“My truth is that I have absolutely nothing to say,” he says quietly. “I’ll never be able to take back what I did to you. And you’ll never believe me if I promise it won’t happen again.” He presses a kiss against my head. “You are my world, Lily. My world. When I woke up on this bed that night and you were gone, I knew I would never get you back. I came here to tell you how incredibly sorry I am. I came to tell you I was taking that job offer in Minnesota. I came to tell you goodbye. But Lily . . .” His lips press against my head again and he exhales sharply. “Lily, I can’t do that now. You have a part of me inside of you. And I already love this baby more than I’ve ever loved anything in my whole life.” His voice cracks and he grips me even harder. “Please don’t take this away from me, Lily. Please.”

The pain in his voice ripples through me, and when I lift my tear-soaked face to look at him, he presses his lips desperately to mine and then pulls back. “Please, Lily. I love you. Help me.”

His lips briefly meet mine again. When I don’t push him away, his mouth comes back a third time.

A fourth.

When his lips meet mine the fifth time, they don’t leave.

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to him. My body is tired and weak, but it remembers him. My body remembers how his body can soothe everything I’m feeling. How his has a gentleness in it that my body has been craving for two months now.

“I love you,” he whispers against my mouth. His tongue sweeps softly against mine and it’s so wrong and so good and so painful. Before I know it, I’m on my back and he’s crawling on top of me. His touch is everything I need and everything I shouldn’t.

His hand wraps in my hair and in an instant, I’m transferred back to that night.

I’m in the kitchen, and his hand is tugging my hair so hard it hurts.

He brushes the hair from my face and in an instant, I’m transferred back to that night.