“What are you talking about?” he says.

I see the rock, and I stop and turn around to look at him. I don’t why looking at him gets my stomach fluttering. I don’t know why there is suddenly a lump in my throat. Maybe it’s because he’s going to say things I don’t want to hear. “I’m talking about this conversation. It’s pretty much self-explanatory.”

“Is it?” He puts his hands in his back pockets, and his chest is so much bigger for some reason. Or maybe it’s the darkness or the shadows.

“It is.” Folding my arms over my chest, I say, “Everything that we had was a lie.”

“What?” he asks, shocked.

“So how long were you fucking Savannah?” I ask, ignoring the lump in my throat and the tears burning my eyes. “Was it the whole time?”

“It’s not what you think,” he says, and I shake my head.

“Eight years!” I shout. “After eight fucking years, all you can come up with is it’s not what you think?”

“Kallie.” He hisses my name, and I get even more angry. My stomach feels like a tsunami is in it with all the nerves I have.

“I’m here, Jacob.” I throw my hands up. “This is what you wanted to talk about it. Well, I’m asking my questions.”

“It’s not that easy,” he says softly and looks down.

“When did it happen?” I ask what I’ve been asking myself for the last eight years. “When? Was it in my face the whole time?” He shakes his head. “That’s it? That’s all you got?”

“All I can say is it’s not what you think,” he says, and I now lose the battle of my tears.

“When did you fall out of love with me?” I ask him softly.

“Never,” he says, his voice almost a whisper, and I have to laugh.

“Why?” I ask. “Why did you do it? Why didn’t you just break up with me?” My voice cracks, and he takes a step closer to me, but I take a step back. “Why, Jacob?” I put my hand in front of my trembling lips. “Why didn’t you marry her?”

“Because she wasn’t you,” he says. Standing right in front of me, he places his hands on my face as he holds me there with his eyes on mine. “I’ve never loved anyone but you,” he says, and the tears roll over my rims and onto his thumbs. He brings his head closer to mine. “I’ve loved you my whole life,” he says right before his lips hit mine, and my hands go to his waist.

I’ve dreamed of this kiss every single day, no matter how much I told myself that I hated him. He would creep into my dreams, dreams that were filled with kisses. But nothing can compare to his real kiss.