Elisabeth Naughton - Hold On To Me

“Mitch, I’m not changing my mind. Simone and I are leaving. I only came here tonight to say good-bye.”

“Good-bye,” he repeated in a low voice. “And you don’t care what I have to say about it?”

“No, I don’t. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

In the seconds that followed, she watched his eyes harden, his jaw clench, and his hand drop to his side as the reality of what she was saying finally sank in. “So that’s it. You’re leaving for good. No discussion.”

She swallowed hard and told herself this was the only way. “No. I mean, yes. No discussion.”

“All because your dad’s sick?” Disbelief flashed in his eyes. “I don’t get it. What’s really going on? This isn’t like you, Simone. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

There were a thousand things she wasn’t telling him, but he was better off not knowing. Like a Band-Aid. Rip it off .

“This is what’s going on.”

“Don’t lie to me. Just tell me the truth. You owe me that much.”

Every emotion she’d been fighting back slammed into her, forcing her voice higher and her nerves humming. “You want to know what’s really going on? Here it is. I had a husband, Mitch. I’m not looking for another. I should have ended this a long time ago because I knew you wanted more, only I didn’t because I was selfish. I liked being with you. But this last week I realized…it’s too much. I don’t want you to be Shannon’s father, I don’t want to play house, and I don’t want to have to worry about you when I make decisions. This situation…with my parents… It just reinforced this is the perfect time to end things before either of us gets any more involved in something that never should have started.”

His eyes narrowed. “So earlier, when you kissed me—”

“That was physical,” she said quickly, desperate now to get this over. “Physical between us has always been good. It’s just everything else that’s not working for me.”

Hurt flashed in his gorgeous green eyes. “Physical,” he repeated. “That didn’t feel like physical to me. That felt like a whole lot more.”

It felt like a whole lot more to her too, only she couldn’t tell him that now. She swallowed hard. Knowing there was one thing she could say that would end things for good. Only saying it…

Bile pushed up her throat. Oh God …

She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry but I just…” Shit. “I don’t…love you, Mitch, not the way you want me to.”

His face paled, and he took a big step back. Wiping one hand across his mouth, he rested the other on his hip and looked quickly away.

And in the silence, the pain of a thousand burning suns scorched through her, because the sick look rushing over his features wasn't one of just shock, it was pure and utter betrayal.

“Ouch,” he said after several seconds. “That hurt more than I expected. You, ah, sure know how to drop the gavel, Counselor. You should have been a judge.”

Pinpricks of heat stabbed at every inch of Simone’s body. No, no, no. I lied. I take it back! Thoughts spun out of control and mixed with emotions she hadn't expected to feel. She had to do something to make this better. She had to fix this before it was too late. She stepped toward him. “Mitch—”

“Don’t.” He moved back and held up a hand, this time to stop her from touching him . “I, ah, I get it. Loud and clear. You don’t have to say it more than once.”

A sob pushed up her throat. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She had to tell him the truth. She didn’t care if it was breaking the rules or if it put her in more danger. Admitting she wasn’t who he thought didn't even compare to the pain of knowing he believed she didn’t love him.

“Mitch.” She’d been so careful not to say the words these past few months. Afraid of losing control, of giving up a part of herself. Now… Now she wished she’d said them a hundred times so he’d know she was lying. “Wait—”

He gripped a kitchen chair and moved behind it, putting it and the table between them so she couldn’t touch him. “You need to leave, Simone.”

She faltered, and panic spread through her. A desperate need to make him understand urged her forward. “Mitch—”

His head swiveled her way. He gripped the chair back with both hands, his knuckles turning white. But when his eyes locked on hers, she drew up short. Hard, cold, blazing eyes. Eyes she’d never seen before. “Are you deaf? I said get out!”

A buzzer went off in the kitchen, and Simone startled. It took several seconds to realize it was the timer on the oven.

Dinner. The romantic dinner he’d made for her was ready. He didn’t break eye contact, didn’t move to turn off the timer. In the silence between them, candlelight flickered off his hard jaw and chiseled face, and she realized she’d been wrong. She’d spent the last hour worrying what he’d think of her when he learned about her past. What she should have been afraid of was this. What it would feel like when he hated her.

A chill swept over her body, and heartache lanced through every cell. In a daze, she stepped back, then turned for the hallway, her pulse a roar in her ears that drowned out Van Morrison’s voice as he sang about crazy love.

Hand shaking, she found the doorknob and somehow managed to get outside. Cool air whooshed around her when she stepped onto the front porch. The door slammed at her back, and as the sound echoed in her ears, the dam finally broke. Every emotion she’d held back since Will’s call flooded in and knocked the wind right out of her body.

She covered her mouth with her hand to keep from screaming and ran for her car. She’d done exactly what she’d planned when she’d left the airport. But she hadn’t expected it to burn like this.

A burn, she now knew, that would leave a scar she’d carry with her forever.

Mitch waited until the sound of Simone’s car faded into the darkness before he let go of the chair.

His body vibrated as if an electrical current ran through it. Crossing the room, he punched off the stereo so he didn’t have to listen to Van Morrison’s fucking voice anymore, then moved into the kitchen and flipped off the oven.

The special dinner he’d made forgotten, he grabbed a glass and the Jamison he kept above the stove. After walking into his living room, he poured a generous shot and downed it in one long gulp, then stared into the flickering flames of the fire.

“ I don’t love you .”

Anger and stupidity whipped through him, so hot it singed every vein. He dropped the bottle on the coffee table, then hurled the tumbler toward the fireplace, a perfect pitch that shattered the glass against the bricks into a thousand pieces and did shit to calm the storm raging inside. Body still humming, he extinguished every candle he’d lit to set a romantic mood, flipped off the lights, and stalked upstairs to his bedroom.

Everywhere he looked, he saw Simone. Lying across his bed, smiling that sexy grin. Sitting on the counter in his bathroom, watching while he shaved. Perched on the window seat in his bedroom, wearing his favorite Mariner’s T-shirt and nothing else, her dark hair a sexy mess around her face, her lips swollen from his mouth, her eyes wicked and seductive as she crooked her index finger and tried to coax him to come her way.

Holy hell, he was such a moron. He’d been so head over heels in love with her, he’d completely ignored the signs. The way she refused to talk about the future. The way she wouldn’t discuss her feelings. The fact he’d had to argue like a freakin’ lawyer just to get her to leave Shannon with him for the week. And the kicker—the giant neon warning sign he should have clued in to long ago—the fact she’d never once told him she loved him.