Page 120 of Letting Go at 40

I groan. “Why aren’t you spending the night with me?”

She stares at me. Even confused, she takes my breath away, but I need to breathe. I need to know we have a future. I want what Logan and Autumn have, and Zack and River. Even Archer, as much as we haven’t always gotten along. I’ll own that I’m envious of the commitment he’s about to make with Jenna.

For the first time in my life, I want forever. I want all the hours in a day and all the nights in a week. I want months and years with this woman.

Not sneaking into bathrooms or stealing moments in my bedroom.

“We just don’t do that.” Anna lowers her head, clutching the sheet at her throat.

“But why not?” I release my hair and slap at my sheet-covered thigh before shifting to cup her cheek. I repeat myself when I say, “We should move in together.”

Anna’s eyes shift away from my gaze. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

Not ready? It’s been two fucking years.

Anna pulls back from my touch, and I lower my hand to the sheet between us, clenching the material in my fist.

“Anna, you mentioned letting go when we had our first date. You know what the irony of that statement is . . . Ben said the same thing to me.”

Her breath hitches and shaky fingers cover her lips.

“His note to me . . . the ones he wrote to the guys. He had two words for me. Let go.” I stare up at her. “This is me letting go, Anna. I want forever with you.”

Anna’s head is already shaking. Tears fill her eyes. She’s slowly slipping backward, removing herself from the bed. “Why would you bring Ben into this?”

“What?” Fuck! “That’s not what I’m doing. This isn’t about Ben. This is about you and me.”

My fingers tighten in the sheet, as I watch Anna scramble for her clothing. She picks up her shorts, clutching the small material to her chest.

“There isn’t a you and me, is there?” My voice drops, my tone brusque. “There’s never going to be a you and me, is there?”

Anna quickly glances at me. With silent tears, slowly trickling down her cheek I have my answer.

“This was just sex, wasn’t it?” My voice hardens.

Anna leans down to grab her tank top, adding it to her meager attempts to cover herself. “No,” she whispers, choking on the word.

Fuck, I can’t watch her cry, and least of all because of me, but this had to be said. We need to talk about the future. If there’s a future.

“This isn’t enough for me.” If I strike first, she can’t hit me where it will hurt most. When she tells me it isn’t sex, but it isn’t more. When she says we’re friends, like it’s a dirty word. There’s no doubt Anna cares about me, and she loves my kid, but us—Anna and me—she doesn’t love that idea.

My heart clenches, tightening my entire chest. Fuck, this hurts. This hurts so much. My throat burns and I blink to clear the sting behind my eyes.

Ask me to stay and I will. What a goddamn fool I’ve been to think I’d ever be enough. That she’d ever want me to stay in her house, in her heart, making a life together.

With her clothes collected, she’s made it to the bedroom door. Her supple ass on display. Her short, firm legs. Her sexy spine I kissed along only moments ago.

“I found a house,” I blurt.

Anna’s head snaps back and she spins to face me. “I didn’t know you were still looking for one.”

“I’ve always been looking.” The search has been limited. I found issue with every location because I didn’t want to leave. Another house wouldn’t have Anna.

Ask me to stay and I will. Now, I know I should leave.

“You don’t have to move.” Her voice is weak; her words not enough.

She’s standing across the room from me instead of talking to me, clutching her clothes like a one-night stand trying to sneak free of my bedroom. As I stare at the woman of my dreams, I realize our time together might have been just that. A dream. A fantasy that came to fruition due to tragedy. I can’t turn back time, but I can change the future, and that future is either with Anna because she wants me by her side, in her bed and her heart.