For Angelo(26)

Lane’s cry of pain, silent, broken, and coming not from her lips but her heart.

His chest clenched at the soundless tangible cry, but he told himself he couldn’t let it get to him.

And then Lane started to speak in a painful rush.

“Y-you may not believe me, but I’m usually b-better at controlling t-these things. It’s been years since the last time I fainted. I’m not lying. I just need to be mentally prepared, and normally I am—” She had to stop because she could no longer breathe, the fear was just too great. She was afraid of losing him, of having him turn his back on her without giving this – them – a chance.

But Angelo didn’t say a thing, only stared at her, and terror threatened to eclipse her world.

“I’m usually better, Angelo, please believe me, I don’t faint every day. It’s just that your wealth took me by surprise, and then I saw your house—” She knew she should stop to sort herself out, but the words just kept coming, like they were the only way to stop the tears. “It was one thing after another, and then when those men came—”

Angelo flinched. “Lane—”

Don’t call me that, she wanted to scream, and a sob caught in her throat.

Fuck. The despair in her gaze seared him.

“I’m better now,” Lane insisted. “I won’t be taken by surprise again, I promise. I mean it, Angelo.”

And then she tried to smile, and it was like seeing an invisible wound—

A wound he alone could see, a wound he alone could stop from bleeding.

And because he knew this, Angelo hardened his heart.

He said nothing.

He did nothing.

He only gazed impassively at her, telling himself that the only way to give her a quick, clean break was to let her…bleed.

Seconds ticked by, and the continued silence tore at Lane.

Was he truly not going to say anything?

Was he truly going to let things between them end just like that?

“Please say something,” she choked out.

But there was only silence, tearing her apart, again and again, and she blurted out, “Is this your w-well-mannered way of telling me that it’s been fun while it lasted—” Hysteria tinged Lane’s voice. “Or m-maybe you’re going to say other clichéd thing? It’s not you, it’s me, and all that bull?”

But Angelo’s lips only tightened at her words.

She shook her head furiously. “N-no. I get it. You’re just pulling my leg again. You’re being s-sadistic…right?”

Slowly, he shook his head, and then he said simply, “No.”

Lane whitened.

No?

More sobs tried to claw out of her throat as she tried to digest it in.

No, he was not being sadistic.

No, he was not pulling her leg.

No, he wasn’t pretending, but he simply wanted to send her away.

So go, Lane’s mind begged her.

Leave now before you completely lose what little pride you have left.

Do it with dignity.

And Lane wanted to do it.

Her pride demanded it.

But then she remembered Laura’s words, remembered how Laura didn’t regret taking the risks she took because she had wanted to seize every new day in her life, and Lane knew she owed it to herself not to give up.

She whispered, “Please don’t send me away.”

Angelo stiffened.

“I p-promise I won’t cause you any trouble again.”

But still he remained unmoving and silent.

She bit her lip hard as she looked at him. He had his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him, and his gaze focused on the windows – away from her.

Her fallen angel, she thought painfully.

And he wanted to go.

“Please.” She couldn’t stop trying one last time even though she knew she shouldn’t, knew someone like her wasn’t really for someone like him.

But all he said was her name.

“Lane.”

She wanted to weep.

Lane.

She was just Lane now.

And she just couldn’t take it, she just couldn’t make herself give up—

“Look at me, please!” She took hold of his face with both hands and forced him to look at her.

Angelo’s gaze clashed with hers.

“Please—” Pain engulfed her, and she could no longer speak. Her hands fell, and she could only plead to him with her eyes, and it was those eyes that stopped Angelo from speaking.

She had been right when she thought he was going to send her away.

He had.

But he could no longer do it.

How could he when she was looking at him like she believed that in the end, she deserved to be thrown away?

“Okay.”

She stared at him, as if unable to believe what she was hearing.

“I’m saying,” Angelo said tensely, “I’m not sending you away.”

But Lane continued to stare at him, and Angelo let her, realizing that it was her way of convincing herself.

“You can touch me if you think it would help you believe this is real.”

Oh. Lane started, recognizing the words. They were the very same thing he had spoken at the bus stop. Her eyes flew to him. This was real then?

And almost as if he heard her question, he took hold of her hand and brought it to his mouth.