Luke dips his head. Josh’s face is a mask.
Zack looks utterly distraught. He runs a hand through his beard. “I mean, if that’s what you want, we’ll take what we can get, L. But I love you. We all do. And you said—”
“I love you too,” I agree, nodding. “I do. But it’s not enough, Zack.”
He presses his lips together, his eyes pained. “I really hurt you, didn’t I?” He says quietly. “When I slept with you, and then—”
“And then dumped me immediately after? You brought me into that garden knowing that we weren’t leaving it as a couple. But you still insisted on getting it on with me, for what? To give us one last run?” I take a shaky breath. “As a friend, I can see that you were in pain, and I can forgive you. But as a partner — I can’t. Okay? I can’t let you treat me like that.”
“That’s not what was happening. Not in my head.” He rubs his throat. “I just… we were at the wedding, and I was so happy with you. And when I realised what day it was, I felt like the worst person in the world. Because I hadn’t just forgotten Em, I’d replaced her with another woman.” He touches his chest. “I took you into that garden because I wanted to prove to myself that wasn’t what was happening. That I wasn’t… falling for you.” I flinch, and he hangs his head. “I’m so sorry for using you like that. I broke up with you in the meanest way I possibly could’ve, and I can’t apologise enough. But I do love you.”
“It’s not enough,” I say sadly. “Jesus, Zack, I wish it was. But I won’t be your second best. There’s some part of you that’s always going to be wishing you had Emily instead of me. I don’t want to be your runner-up.”
“You’re not a runner-up,” he protests.
“I am, though,” I say, my voice breaking. “And I can’t blame you for that, you can’t help how you feel, but—”
“You’re not a runner-up,” he growls. “For God’s sake, just let me speak.”
The fire in his eyes makes me go still. He scrubs a hand over his face. “Look. I’ll always love Emily.”
“I’d never expect anything else.”
He takes a deep breath, puffing up his chest. “I’ll always love her… but she’s gone now. And the man that I was back then is mostly gone, too. We were children. And she will always be a part of me. But she was a part of my past, not my future.”
I shake my head. I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want him to chip down my defences. “Zack—”
“Look,” he emphasises, tugging down the neckline of his shirt. I stare at the few inches of bare collarbone blankly for a second, then realise what he’s showing me. My stomach sinks.
“What happened to your ring?”
“I dropped it at the wedding. When we were…” he waggles his eyebrows.
I don’t laugh. I’m horrified. “Oh my God. Did you lose it?” Was it my fault? Did I pull it off him by accident? My throat squeezes, choking me up. “I’m so sorry.”
He shakes his head. “Josh found it. It’s in the safe in my room.”
I frown. “You didn’t have to do that. I’d never ask you to take it off.”
“I know. But I realised… I don’t need to wear it on me.” He shakes his head, his eyes fixed on me. “Layla, I’ve loved you almost this whole time. And in the back of my mind, I knew it. I knew it when I slept with you. I knew it when I kissed you. I knew it when I took you out. But I pushed the feeling away, because I was terrified of it. And I was using a dead teenage girl to hide behind.”
He takes a step towards me, and this time, I don’t shrink away.
“I can’t keep Em alive by remembering her. I can’t bring her back — but I also couldn’t erase her, even if I wanted to. She’ll never go away. Not really. She’s part of me.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “She’ll still be here if I don’t think of her every day. She’ll be here if I take the ring off. If I go back to all the places we used to go together.” He takes my hands. His fingers are shaking. I clasp them hard, looking up at him. “She’ll still be here when I meet a smart, sweet, gorgeous girl, and I fall in love with her. When I admit it to myself. When I let myself move on.” His voice breaks. “So, yeah. Layla. I do love you. I adore you. It’s taken so goddamn long, but I’m finally ready to love someone. For the love of God, please forgive me.”
I don’t say anything. I can’t. My head is spinning.
He looks down. “Christ. I don’t know how to convince you I mean it, but—”
Pushing up onto my tiptoes, I cup his cheeks and kiss him. He makes a sputtering noise against my mouth, kissing me back hard. Warmth flows through me in a slow, unfurling wave as our mouths move slowly together, soft and tender.
This is new to me. Forgiveness. I learned as a kid that it’s so much easier to see the world in black and white. It’s safer to stay away from people who have hurt you, because otherwise, they can just do it over and over and over again.
But I don’t think Zack will. And I understand how all the pain and the hurt and the grief could have twisted his brain into thinking rejecting me was the right thing to do.
I trust him.
