Page 133 of Love Arranged

I feel like I’m being torn in two directions, my heart splitting down the center as Lorenzo cradles me to his chest. Part of me cherishes this kind of connection after spending so long wishing for it while the other is terrified by it.

Terrified ofhimand how he is making me feel again.

“Are we going to talk about what happened out there?” he asks, tilting my body back so I have no choice but to look up at him.

“Is there a point? The damage is done.” I hold up my left hand to show off the most beautiful diamond engagement ringever to exist. It’s difficult to look at it, knowing this ring is absolutely perfect and nothing will ever compare.

His brows furrow. “I thought this is what you wanted.”

“It was.”

“What changed?”

My heart is stuck in my throat, the beats growing with intensity as I consider whether to open up to him about my feelings.

If you don’t, you’ll keep going around in circles for the next three and a half months.

But if I do, there is a chance Lorenzo will shut down again, although this time it’ll be worse because he can’t run away. I’ll be stuck with him, pretending to be a happy couple while dying inside.

I’m not sure what scenario I hate more, but I guess I’m about to find out.

“I wanted more for us,” I say, choosing the path that could end with more heartache.

He tenses underneath me, the reaction tempting me to shut my mouth and never open it again, but no, I need to see this through until the very end.

“Lily,” he drawls, a warning if I’ve ever heard one.

My shoulders feel heavy, the weight of my poor choices stacking on top of them like invisible bricks. “When we started this process, I thought there was no way in hell I’d give you another chance, and we both know you wouldn’t want one either, so I didn’t think there was much of a risk while faking it for the public. But the more time we spent together, the more I started looking forward to it.”

I can’t handle his blank stare, so I look away. “I wanted to hate you. I really did. But you’re so damn…”

“Charming?” He cracks a smile.

“Annoyingand persistent and so damn hard to dislike, especially when you open up to me because you don’t trustanyone.”

The timing between his breaths becomes smaller, and I press my hand against his heart to find it rapidly beating beneath my palm.

“Tell me I’m not alone in this,” I demand, my voice strained. “Tell me you want me, that you feel this same, undeniable pull toward me, even if you’re determined to not act on it.”

He stares at me with that dark, brooding gaze of his. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Does it matter? Because either way, you’re right. I won’t act on it.”

“Why not?” I want to shake him around. “Give me a good reason.”

“Because I’ll never be able to give you what you want. Ican’t. I’m incapable of loving someone else, and if anyone deserves the happy ending they want, it’s you.”

It feels like he’s carving me open with every heartbreaking sentence that pours out of his mouth.

“How would you know if you haven’t even tried?”

“Because people like me—people like my father—we don’t love. We don’t knowhowto. Instead weobsess,to the point of making ourselves sick over someone else.” He teases the chain of my bracelet, and goose bumps spread up my arm from a simple brush of his thumb across my pulse point.

“Loveisobsession. They go hand in hand.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Love is good. It’spure. What goes on in my head…it’s the complete opposite.”