Page 161 of Dream On

Color drains from her face.

She parts her lips to speak, but only a little wheeze falls out. The suitcase drops from her hand, tipping backward. “Lex…”

“It’s for the best.”

“Don’t do this.”

My mouth dries, cotton balls sticking to the back of my tongue. “I have to.”

She shakes her head, takes a step toward me, lips quivering and eyes blooming with white-hot tears. “Please.”

“I have to let you go, Stevie.” I swipe both hands down my face, tenting them at my jaw. “I have to let you go for the same reason I let you go four years ago. Because it’s right. Because it’s in your best interest to live a good life—your best life—and I’m convinced, without a doubt, that the best life for you is far away from me. Not because I don’t want you. Not because I don’t care. But because I do.”

She’s already dimming, sharing her light with me until one day, there will be nothing left of her to shine.

I can’t think of anything more tragic.

Stevie reaches for my trembling hands, a soft cry breaking free. “Lex. No. I can’t leave us like this,” she pleads. “You can’t put a fire out with lightning.”

No.

But I can burn along with it.

“It’s the right call.”

“What are you going to tell the press?”

I can hardly keep the devastation out of my voice as I rub a hand over my face. “Rudy will make something up. People will find a new thing to obsess about. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does matter,” she breathes out.

“You were right about everything.” I glance away, my chest ballooning with black tar. “I’ve been selfish, dragging you in and out of my life, desperate for something real to hold on to. And that’s not fair to you. I won’t do it anymore.”

“I only said those things because I was angry.” She grabs hold of my wrists.

“You said it because it’s true. You’re right to feel used. All I’ve ever done is suck all the goodness out of you and spin it into something that benefits me. I used your kindness as an escape when we were young. Our story as a career move. Your empathy as a publicity stunt,” I confess brokenly.Fuck—I really am an asshole. Putting it all out there, laid out in painful bullet points, is an acid-doused dagger to my guts. “I’m no better than my mother. I’ve never seen you so furious, so torn apart, as you were the night we…” Swallowing, I pull free of her hands and take a step back, distancing myself from the messes I’ve made. “And then I used that too.”

Her head swings back and forth, rejecting all the things she knows are true. “I wanted it. I wanted it so badly.”

“For how long? How long are you going to want this? Me?” I stare at her bandaged face, the evidence of my sins on full display. “Look at what it’s doing to you. And now your family is caught up in it.”

“We…we can figure it out.” She reaches for me again, grips me tighter, with everything she has. “I’m not ready to say goodbye. I already lost you once, and it broke me.”

“I’mstillbreaking you,” I grit through my teeth, grabbing her tear-drenched cheeks in my hands and angling her face, showcasing her wounds and cuts. “Look at you. Your face. Your fucking leg. You’re lucky you can even walk.”

Her knee trembles like it heard me. “That was an accident.”

“It was my accident. I caused that. And when someone shows you who they really are, you believe them.”

“Ihaveseen who you are.” Stevie jerks back, dropping my wrists and stabbing a finger at my chest. “It’s not who you think it is.”

“You witnessed who I am at dinner with my mother. I sat there like a useless prick while she tore you to pieces, and I didn’t say a word to defend you.”

“You can’t see it, can you?”

Emotion tunnels up my throat. “See what?”

“The good in you.”