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Right then, he let himself imagine it. If he’d never left. If he’d stayed there, and so had she. If they had found each other ten years ago.

If they had just fallen in love then.

Married each other. Instead of him going into the military.

But you wouldn’t have. You wouldn’t have seen her. You never would’ve slowed down long enough to do it.

He growled, pushing two fingers inside her, and she came apart.

Beautifully. Under his tongue.

And he couldn’t wait anymore. He stood up and undid his jeans and freed himself, thrusting inside her, feeling the silken heat of her close around him.

What a shitty, horrible thing, to realize that he could never have been good enough for her before, either.

He would never have seen her.

He would’ve been looking at flashier things.

More obvious things.

He wanted glory. He cared what other people thought.

He never would’ve just taken her.

Because he was a fool.

He was a fool.

And now he was broken. And what was he to do with that? What the hell could he do with that?

It was just desperately sad, and all he could do was have her. Over and over again. Until neither of them could see straight, until neither of them could breathe.

Until maybe, just maybe, he could forget the grim reality of it all.

That he had to be broken to find her.

That he never would’ve been able to have this if not.

And that either way, keeping her was impossible.

She clung to him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“Gideon,” she whispered. “I love you.”

He growled, his climax overtaking him completely. He couldn’t see straight. Couldn’t think straight. She loved him.

He lowered his head and pressed his face into her neck, and he felt moisture rising up in his eyes.

She loved him.

She wasn’t supposed to love him. She was the sun, and she was supposed to go off and rise somewhere else. That stupid girl.

She was supposed to go away.

She was supposed to leave him to be broken, because that’s what he was.

An addict, a junkie, a man who had abandoned his promises.