The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2)(97)
He had loved her enough to walk away.
She felt it down to her core, something undeniable and excruciating because of it. All he had ever wanted for her was a happy, peaceful existence. He’d paid for law school because he wanted her to have what he couldn’t have.
A normal life.
A happily ever after.
And he’d known all along he couldn’t be the one to give it to her.
He would never have that. He knew it, though he wanted it as badly as she did. So Chuito made sure she could have it, even if he wasn’t part of it.
One memory stood out in particular. The night he had gotten home from a trip to Miami a little over a year ago, he’d been edgy and drained. He’d almost insisted that she dance with him, when usually she was the one looking for a partner. Then, early in the morning, she had jerked awake to his screaming in Spanish.
Alaine ran to his apartment and pushed open his bedroom door to find him already sitting up, looking at his hands as if he was seeing something that wasn’t there.
“Chu—” she whispered, not sure if he was fully awake.
He looked to her, his dark eyes glistening in the moonlight. Then he sucked in a hard, shuddering gasp of air and whispered, “No estás muerta.”
She shook her head. “Spanish.”
“You were dead,” he choked and looked at his hands. “In my dream, they killed you. They shot you. You were dead. I saw it, mami. They got you.”
“No one’s dead.” She jumped into bed with him. Chuito wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down in the sheets, draping one heavy leg over her thighs as if he needed every part of his body touching hers. “I’m fine. No one’s gonna shoot me.”
His hands were shaking, but he still brushed her hair away from her neck and kissed her forehead, like he needed the reassurance that she was really alive. She just lay there with him for a long time, letting his breathing even out. It took so long her eyes started getting heavy, because she had jerked awake out of a deep sleep.
She thought he had gone back to sleep too, but then he whispered into the darkness, “You have to find someone else, mami. I need you to do that for me.”
She grabbed his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. “But I love you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he choked, and she thought for a moment he was crying, which was something she wasn’t even sure he could do. “I can’t ever be what you want. I can never be more than your friend. I won’t let myself.”
“I can wait,” she argued, feeling her chest tighten as she stared at his hand intertwined with hers. “I can wait for my love story.”
“It’s never going to be a love story,” he assured her with such grim confidence she felt tears sting her eyes. “It’s never going to be more than this. Do you want to live out the rest of your days like this, mami? Waiting for something that is never going to happen?”
She turned in his arms. “I don’t believe that.”
“It’s been four years,” he snapped at her. “When are you gonna grow up and start believing it? When are you gonna catch a clue?”
She sat up in bed and glared at him. “You’re being mean ’cause of your dream.”
“No, I’m being practical,” Chuito shot back as he sat up too. “I am not going to be your love story. I’m your friend. I’ll be your friend until I die, but I am not going to give you a happily ever after. You are wasting the best years of your life waiting for something that isn’t going to happen.”
She gaped at him, because there was a raw honesty in the way he said it. “So if I go off and date someone else, it won’t bother you?”
“I would be relieved,” he promised so intensely she believed it. “I would be so relieved, Alaine, you have no idea. I want you to have the love story. Go find it. Go to your father’s church. Find someone you’re supposed to be with, because it is not me. Your love story is with your people in your church. That’s where you’re gonna find it. Not in this prison.” He pointed to the window. “It’s out there.”
“Fine.” She jumped out of his bed and glared at him. “I will. I’ll go date a dozen men. I’ll have sex with all of them. Is that what you want?”
“Not a dozen. Just one. The right one. Someone who is not me.”
“This hurts my feelings,” she whispered as she choked back a sob. “It hurts my feelings that you don’t care if I see someone else, just like it hurts my feelings that I know you probably have sex with all those groupies every time you win a fight. I hate that. I hate that you touch women who aren’t me. What is wrong with me?”
“Nothing.” He reached out to her, but she smacked his hand away before he could touch her. “You see what you’re saying? The problem is me. Hate me if you have to, but go find your love story. You’re too strong to waste away in this prison for a pendejo you think is sleeping with groupies instead of you. Don’t you see how f*cked-up that is, mami?”
“Don’t call me that,” she whispered as she covered her mouth and for one moment allowed herself to really absorb what he was saying. “It is dumb, isn’t it? Loving you when you don’t love me back.”
“I love you,” he said softly. “But—”