Page 167 of A Million To Fall

I shake my head. “I know you’d be lying. Because I know you care, Boss. About your mom, and Cassie, and Bronx. Because you’ll forever sacrifice yourself for your family.”

“And now you’re sacrificing yourself for me.” He begins to pace. “When I told you I didn’t want that, Skye.”

“I gave Mr. Longfellow my word,” I whisper. “And everyone was there last night. So many people… If I walk away, it’s not just a breakup. It’s a scandal. Everything will blow up. I don’t know what he’ll do if I pull out now. I don’t know how far he’ll go.”

Boston closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them, the pain I see punches me right in the chest.

“And I know,” I add, the words tumbling out, “I know that doesn’t make this fair. None of it is fair. But please, Boss, just give me time.”

He stares at me, his face suddenly hardening. “How much time, Skye? How long do you expect us to keep this up?”

I give him a pathetic shrug. “This doesn’t have to change anything,” I whisper in a desperate plea. I’m losing him. I see it.

Even as I say it, I hear how selfish it sounds. I’m asking him to stay exactly where he is—hurting—so I don’t have to.

He shakes his head, face contorting with pain. “What do you want from me, Skye?”

“I don’t want to lose you.” My voice cracks, the tears spilling from my eyes.

“But… just… where do you see this going? I mean, what do you want out of this? Out of me? You’re going to marry him and then what? You’re going to show up and let me fuck you after your damn honeymoon?” His words slap me right in the face. “What if he gets you pregnant, Skye? You want me to fuck you then, too?” The volume in his voice rises.

“On your first, or fifth, or tenth wedding anniversary? Are you going to climb into my bed to keep you warm? When he doesn’t love you right again and again, are you going to let me make love to you instead? What is this, Skye? What am I to you?”

My breath catches.

I know what he is to me.

He’s everything. He’s the only place I’ve ever felt seen. The only one who touches me like I matter. But what does that mean if I keep choosing someone else in the daylight? What does that make me?

“You’re everything to me, and I lo…” I stop myself. Even if it’s true, saying it will only hurt us more.

He stops dead in his tracks, studying me. His jaw is tight, his eyes so, so full of pain.

“I can’t do this,” Boston says heavily.

I just stare at him as my heart shatters.

“I can’t… Skye, I can’t just be here whenever you need to, like, recharge your emotional battery, okay? I can’t… I can’t let you use me for that anymore.”

His words are a white-hot blade slicing through my insides.

“I need to make sure Cassie and Bronx are taken care of. I can’t fall apart over a girl that was never mine to begin with. It’s…” He drags a hand down his face. “Do you have any idea how excruciating it is to… to be with you in the most intimate way imaginable, just for you to leave and be with Archer again and again. Do you know how much it hurts to know that he touches you the way I want to touch you every damn day of my life? That he’s the one who gets to keep you?”

I can’t breathe through the pain expanding in my chest.

“I thought it could be enough,” he continues, voice barely holding. “That I could be okay with… sharing you with him, but…” He looks away, blinking fast. “But I’ve lived the last few years being the one pushed away, and—”

That line breaks something in me.

Boston’s face contorts, emotion catching in his throat as he finally meets my gaze again. “And I know this isn’t the same. I do. But it feels the same. Like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I love, it’s never enough to be chosen.”

I clamp a hand over my mouth to contain the sob.

Boston takes a small step back, tears silently rolling down his cheeks. “Stormy, it’s killing me.” He drags in a shaky breath. “Please. I need you to have some mercy and just… go. I need you to let me go. Please.”

Tears pour down my face. Every instinct in me screams to close the distance between us. The moment I finally take a step toward him, he retreats.

Maybe that’s what love is sometimes. Honoring what the other person is begging you for. Space. Mercy.