Page 141 of Come to Me

She chokes back a sob. Her fingers dig into my shirt as she squeezes me tighter.

I want to take it back. I want to tell her I changed my mind, that I'll do whatever she says, be whatever she wants. I love her so damn much.

But that's all bullshit.

She doesn't want to be my wife. She doesn't even want to tell me how she feels.

I hold Alyssa for what seems like forever. Her sobs fade to gentle cries, to choppy breaths, to slow, steady inhalations. She doesn't protest.

She must agree she'll be happier with someone else.

Chapter Thirty-One

Alyssa

Luke offers me the rest of the vacation. Like spending the next four days in Hawaii by myself is some kind of consolation prize.

Sorry I'm dumping you. Here's some time in paradise to really let that sink in.

Fucking wonderful.

He retreats to the living room of the suite, leaving the bedroom to me. He calls someone, making some kind of arrangements. Probably some woman who actually talks to him.

I pull my knees into my chest and bury myself under the covers. It's dimmer, darker, quieter. It's warm, too warm, but the suffocating feeling is comforting somehow. Something is wrapped around me. It's not Luke's arms. It's not his undying devotion or even his damn patience.

But it's something.

I stifle a sob. I don't want to cry too loudly, don't want to tempt him to console me. A hug from him, the sweet smell of his body, the taste of his lips...

It would be too much. I'd fall apart.

I hug my knees tighter.

He's tired of fighting me.

I squeeze my eyes closed, willing the darkness into my brain. I need black. I need nothing. I need to be empty, again, to be filled with anything except this.

This is it. The end.

I can't blame him. I'm tired of fighting me too. If I had the choice, I'd walk away.

Tears sting my eyes. Okay. Fine. This is one thing I can't fight.

A sob wells in my throat. I clutch the blanket around me. Here, alone, in this dark room, I can really fall apart.

* * *

"Alyssa."

Luke's voice is so gentle and sweet. For a moment, I'm convinced this was all a nightmare. Another premonition of the awful I might face.

I open my eyes.

Luke is sitting on the bed with that look on his face that says I'm sorry I'm getting out of here.

We're in the room where we were supposed to fix everything, where we were supposed to erase how much the last six months hurt.

Not a nightmare. Just real fucking life.