Darkness at the Edge of Town (Iris Ballard #2)(102)
“Then why did you lie to me?”
“Because I was embarrassed. I didn’t want you to think less of me.”
“And that’s the only reason?”
“What…other reason would there be?”
He stopped walking, and I turned to him. His face was so hard and cold. He was pissed. At me. My stomach lurched again. “What other…” His grimace intensified. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t. I don’t have the energy to. I don’t want to. The game’s over. I’m calling it. We’ve wasted enough time, enough life on it. So I need you to say it, Iris. You need to say it, Iris. You…need to say it because…” He looked up at the pinks, purples, oranges, and blues of the evening sky and sighed. “Do you know the biggest regret of my life? The only thing that’s kept me up late at night, beating me up for years? Not the cases we couldn’t solve. Not the horrific, degrading stories we had to listen to from the victims. Not covering up Meriwether. Not shooting Shepherd. It’s…why the fuck didn’t I ask out the beautiful, funny, astonishing woman I met that day in Washington?” He stared back at me, still angry and scowling. “I wanted to. The words were in my mouth a dozen times that day, but something kept stopping me. I wasn’t sure she’d say yes. It wasn’t professional. It’d make things uncomfortable at the Academy. And right when I decided fuck it, maybe she was worth it, she was called in. That moment had passed. But I kept telling myself I’d see her again. We’d have months at training to get to know one another. One night it would just happen. It was inevitable. But the next time I saw her, she’d found someone else. So I told myself, okay, I just had to turn up the charm. Make her jealous by dating her roommate. There’s no way in hell that geek was what she wanted. This hard, smart warrior woman can’t want him when I’m here. We get along so well. Better than I think I’ve gotten along with anyone in my life. She doesn’t give a damn who my father is or how good-looking I am. She knows me. She likes me. It’ll run its course. But it didn’t, so…okay. Friends. I can do friends. Life goes on. I can even be her maid of honor even though a deep part of me wants to punch the groom, who despite myself I’d actually grown to like. Friend. It would have to be enough.
“I don’t know when it happened. It’d been growing for years, that seed planted the day we met, and then one day she touches your hand, she jokingly says, ‘You know you love me,’ and you realize fuck, I do. I must, because the sight of her kissing him, joking with him, talking about children with him, hurts so damn much. So I have to distance myself. Transfer. It takes years, but I’m on the Interstate Task Force; I’m away from her. I’m finally on the ladder to reach all my hopes and dreams. Except there she is again. In the same building. Helping us. Together again. But by some miracle she’s having problems with her husband. It’s happened. They’re over. And she’s kissing me. We’re making love. Finally. And it’s amazing. Deep. Passionate. Everything I knew it would be. But I wake up alone. And when I see her next, she can’t look at me. Can’t be near me. She’s going back to her husband. The only time she talks to me is professionally or to tell me she’s leaving. She can’t have anything to do with me. I lost her.
“Then I truly almost lost her. She’s bleeding to death in my arms. And there’s nothing I can do for her. She’s in agony, and there’s nothing I can do. As I hold her, I pray to God, to the universe, to whatever’s listening, save her. Please. Save her. The world needs her. I need her. And it happened. She’ll live. Then she won’t talk to me. She won’t see me. She vanishes without a word. And I’m too wrecked to chase after her. I convince myself I was wrong: I don’t need her. I may even hate her. I know I hate how much she haunts me. How I miss her laugh. How she’s the only one who can make me laugh. How I miss bouncing ideas off her. How I can tell her anything and she understands me. Doesn’t judge me. Makes me better. And when I finally get the goddamn strength to go see her, she throws an ashtray at my head. Screams at me. She still doesn’t want me. But goddamn it, I need her. I need my partner. I need my best friend. And…I think she needs me. More than that, I think she wants me.
“But I can’t say it for her. Iris…I can’t say it for you. And I can’t say it first because if I’m wrong…I’ll lose you forever this time. I cannot take another rejection from you. I can’t. So either you say it or we can forget this conversation ever happened. I’ll beg and blackmail for the job in Madrid. Try to enjoy my pedicure. We’ll email on occasion. We’ll Facebook. When the sky truly starts falling we can rescue each other because I don’t think that can ever change, no matter how much I may want it to. I’ve tried and failed twice. We’ll always be friends.”
He took a step toward me, staring down into my teary eyes. “But goddamn it, we could be so much more, Iris. We can be happy. We deserve to be happy. So just say it. Say it. Please.”
“I’ll just screw it up,” I whispered, my voice trembling along with the rest of me. “Luke, I’ll ruin it.”
“No, you won’t,” he said with certainty. “Because I won’t let you any more than you’ll let me. We’re good apart. Decent. But we’ve proven time and again that together we’re fucking unstoppable. We’re better. So just say it, Iris. And don’t wait like I did. Because you may blink and we’re gone. And I don’t wish what I’ve been through, all the regrets, all the pain, on anyone, let alone my best friend.”