Page 116 of Heavy Crown

“It’s too late,” I rasp.

“You’re not married yet.”

“I gave my word,” I roar. “I’ve gone down this path now. Whether or not you heard me that night, you made a choice not to let me in.”

“I made a mistake.” The words are garbled by her tears.

When I turn to her, her face is streaked with the evidence of her sadness. She’s breached the gap between us, and if I reached out a hand, I could scoop up her tears, drag her to me, tip my life on its axis. Three weeks ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated.

But now? I’ve had time to consider what else I’ll lose beyond my word.

Whatever time is left with my father will vanish. His opinion of me will sour. There isn’t time to repair that sort of rift.

“I can’t.” I close my eyes and press the heels of my hands into my cheekbones.

“Alex.” Rory curls her hand into my jacket.

When I open my eyes, our gazes connect, and a deep well of despair opens in me. How do I go back on my word? How do I turn my back on my father? How do I say no to her when everything in me is screaming to say yes?

“I love you,” she says. “I don’t want to be without you.”

I frame her face, and I bend down so our foreheads are touching. My jaw aches from keeping myself in check. “Do you remember when I asked you what you wanted most in the world?” I ask. “You said you wanted to be loved, and you wanted to be put first. I laid those things at your feet that night, and your silence told me I wasn’t enough.”

“Oh, Alex, no,” she breathes out. “No.”

I let her go and step back, desperate for some distance. If I keep letting her suck me in, I’ll make an impulsive choice. Three weeks ago, the situation was complicated, but it didn’t feel impossible. In the time that’s passed, too many things out of my control have become tangled.

“Tell me what I can say,” she says. “Tell me what you need me to say to change your mind.”

“I can’t—” My voice cracks. “I can’t leave now, Rory.” Once there’s some distance between us, I sit on the bench at the end of my bed. Nervous energy buzzes off me.

“There’s nothing I can say?” Her voice is distorted by tears.

“I told you the window was narrow, and you let it close.” I throw out my hand. “I would have left it all for you, but it is too late.” Anger is raging in me that she’s come here after three weeks to tell me she loves me, misses me, wishes things were different. “What’s changed?” I ask. “Three weeks ago I wasn’t enough for you.”

“That is not true,” she says, and there’s a hint of anger in her tone. “I didn’t want you making a mistake you’d regret for the rest of your life. You proposed your non-plan to me while you were drunk, Alex. What was I supposed to think?”

“But now it’s okay for me to throw it all away? Now that we’re on your timeline, it’s perfectly acceptable for me to have a lifetime of regret?”

She stares at me, and she shakes her head.

“For five nights, I stood outside your apartment door, and I pleaded with you to let me in. I fucking begged you, and now you come here asking me to betray people who’ve put their trust in me?”

“Is there...” She bites her lip, and she wipes her tears away with impatience. “Is there any way we can be together?”

“Three weeks ago there were three of them. Now the best I can offer you...” I rub my face, and I can’t meet her gaze because whether she turns me down or accepts this, no one wins. “The only thing I can offer you—” The words gets stuck in my throat. “You could stay in the apartment. I could see about extending your visa... but we would never be, could never be, more than that.”

There’s a heavy silence from her side of the room, but I don’t glance up. Whatever expression is on her face, I don’t want to see it.

“I would never do that to another woman,” Rory whispers. “And I’m ashamed that you even suggested it.”

The bedroom door opens with a click, and I still don’t look up. Once the door closes again, I stride over to the minibar and grab one of the crystal tumblers. With all the pent-up rage and frustration storming through me, I hurl it at the wall.

It shatters into a million pieces, and I fall to my knees on the floor.

forty-two

Rory