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He told me to get drunk on life, on things that fill my well. But why did he have to be the one to fill it?

I got drunk on Nate, and now I’m falling down, exactly like I feared I would.

My hand shakes as I bring the back of my thumb knuckle to my face to wipe away a tear.

I break.

“Why?” I whisper. “Why the fuck did you leave, Nate?”

Chapter Fourteen

Nate

My stomach bottoms out. Shame, hot and prickly, marries with panic inside my torso, coating my insides with a sensation that’s alternately hot and cold.

And then there’s the anger. Watching Milly cry—knowing I’m the one responsible for her tears—makes me want to burn down the backward world we were born into.

She didn’t deserve what I did to her.

I hate myself for doing it. But I saw no other way to keep her safe.

I don’t know what to say without saying too much. So I go with the truth. A sliver of it, anyway.

“I had to, Milly.”

“That’s a bullshit answer and you know it. What aren’t you telling me?”

The air between us vibrates with emotion. Lucy senses it too, because she goes still in the crook of my arm.

“What do you want me to say, Milly?” I reply gently. “I had my reasons. I never meant to hurt you—”

“But you did!” she bursts out, really crying now. “You broke my fucking heart, Nate.”

I just stare at her, my pulse throbbing. “But you never—”

“I know. And I regret not being more upfront about how I felt. Maybe that’s why I’m honest to a fault now. I don’t know why—” She takes a breath and looks away.

“I had no idea.”

Her head whips back around, and she stabs me with a glare. “That’s not true. You had to have suspected I was in love with you.” Her brows curve upward, softening her expression. “I thought you might be in love with me too.”

I was.

I was.

I was so fucking in love with her. And that’s why I had to leave. She deserved more than I could ever give her.

But it’s a moot point now. I’m with somebody else.

Only thinking about somebody else when I’m with Milly feels all kinds of wrong.

What a fucking mess I’ve made.

“Then why’d you keep me a secret?” I shoot back, my voice hoarse with desperation. “You don’t hide what you love. You hide what you’re ashamed of.”

Milly blinks, tears spilling out of her eyes. “That’s fair. Maybe . . . yeah, maybe I didn’t know what to do with the fact that you were so different.”

I scoff, clenching my jaw against the searing burn inside my chest. “Jesus Christ.”

“I know,” she says, those big blue eyes imploring. “Nate, I know how fucked up that is. But hear me out. The fact that you were different—that’s what I loved about you. No one had ever come close to making me feel the way you did. I could be myself with you. Let my guard down because you took such wonderful care of me and made me feel like a goddess. You never tried to change me, and that was the biggest fucking turn-on, you know? Knowing I was safe with you.”

A lump forms in my throat. I swallow it and look away because I can’t meet her eyes when she’s like this. As raw and as real as it gets.

Knowing I can’t return the favor makes me feel like the world’s biggest piece of shit.

So does knowing what I have with Reese doesn’t compare to what I had with Milly. Granted, being with Reese feels so much easier than being with Milly ever did, but maybe that’s not a good thing.

Maybe that means I’m not showing Reese my true self. All of me. The messy parts and the fucked-up parts and the parts that don’t make sense. It’s easier to hide those things, and so I do. Makes life neater. Cleaner.

Nothing with Milly was neat or clean. But that meant I didn’t have to be the neat, tidy version of myself I am with Reese. There are no secrets with Reese, but maybe there aren’t a lot of truths either.

Which is better: stability or authenticity?

Choosing peace or choosing myself?

I feel like I should know the answers to these questions already. I should know who I am and what I want. But right now, I feel more mixed up than ever.

“I’m glad I made you feel that way,” I say roughly. “But I asked your brother point blank if I could date you. Beau didn’t love the idea, granted, but he did say it was up to you. He said it was okay for me to approach you, which leads me to believe your family wouldn’t have totally hated the idea of us being together. Especially if I treated you as well as you say I did.”