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The woman was killing me.
“Baby—”
“I’ve been a pain in your ass and you made me dinner.”
This wasn’t about her being a pain in the ass or about dinner.
“Never,” she went on whispering.
When she didn’t go on I prompted, “Never what?”
She shook her head so hard her hair shook with her movements.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t do that,” I gritted out.
“Do what?”
“Give me something then take it away.”
She blinked then asked, “What’d I give you?”
“You, Nebraska. You keep giving me bits and pieces of you then you take them away.”
Her eyes slowly lowered and her head tipped forward.
Yeah, she was going to destroy me.
And it wouldn’t be words that shredded me, it would be the knowledge no one had ever loved this woman the way she deserved.
EIGHTEEN
I couldn’t breathe.
I wasn’t sure if I was holding my breath or if all the oxygen in the room had magically evaporated.
My head was filled with strange, if not unpleasant thoughts.
A sandwich.
My lungs burned and my heart felt funny because of a sandwich.
That was a lie.
My lungs burned because Easton had stolen my breath.
Don’t do that.
Do what?
Give me something then take it away.
What’d I give you?
You, Nebraska. You keep giving me bits and pieces of you then you take them away.
My heart felt funny because I couldn’t remember ever feeling…this. I couldn’t find the right words to describe what this was. Mostly because I’d never felt something so contradictory—cared for but unloved.
