“Livvie, fuck me, baby, please come here. Please listen to me,” he begged.

Her eyes locked to his and at the look in hers, Nick’s lungs hollowed out.

“I believed,” she whispered.

“Let me come to you,” he pleaded urgently.

“You made me believe,” she accused.

“You know how it started,” he replied immediately. “And I can’t deny that, baby. I can’t deny that, my Livvie. I fucked up. So many times, I told myself I needed to come clean with you. Too many fucking times. I couldn’t do it. I knew it’d hurt you. I couldn’t do it. But you know it now, so why would I be here trying to convince you I’m in love with you if I wasn’t in love with you?”

“I don’t know,” she shot back, also immediately. “Why would you watch me for years? Plant bugs in the warehouse and listen to everything? Why would you own the club without telling me? Why would you sleep with me knowing my father ordered your girlfriend’s and your murder? Why would you pretend to begin caring about me when you knew that, nearly every day, I saw the man who carried out that order?”

“I loved her,” he shared.

She flinched but didn’t miss a beat.

“I can imagine, planning for years to avenge her. She must have been something.”

“Liv—”

“I don’t believe anymore, Sebring.”

“Ba—”

“You want me to believe you care? Even a little bit?” she asked, but didn’t wait for him to jump on it, she quickly finished, “Then leave.”

In desperation, unable to remain cautious, he moved to her. She moved with him, retreating around the room with each step he took. He didn’t speed up, he didn’t get aggressive, but he didn’t let up.

And he did all this saying, “First, we gotta see to that eye. Then I’ll give you some time on your own to wrap your head around this shit and calm down. I’m not leaving, but I’ll give you space. You calm down, you let me talk to you, you actually listen to me, I’ll get you to see more clearly what’s happening here.”

“I ask for one thing, even that you won’t do,” she pointed out. Having put the couch between them, she stopped. “It’s over, Sebring.”

Shit, fuck, fuck.

“It’s not over, Liv. I’m in love with you.”

“It’s over, Sebring.”

“And you’re in love with me too.”

“You mean something to me,” she stated and at that, his lungs started burning. They iced over when she finished, “But so did Tommy.”

“Liv—”

And that was when it happened.

Defeat slid stark all over her. It was in her face. Her eyes. The line of her frame. It was so extreme, he could feel it in air and taste it in his throat.