Ugly Love(73)

I let him use me to get rid of his pain.
I’ll do whatever he wants me to do as long as he stops hurting like he’s hurting.
He slips his hand beneath my skirt and begins to pull down my underwear at the same time as I hook my thumbs onto the hips of his jeans and push them down. My panties make it to my ankles, and I kick them off, just as he takes both my hands and pushes them above my head, pressing them to the floor.
He drops his forehead to mine but doesn’t kiss me. He closes his eyes, but I keep mine open. He wastes no time pushing himself between my legs, spreading them wider. He moves his forehead to the side of my head, then slides into me slowly. When he’s all the way inside me, he exhales, releasing some of his pain. Taking his mind away from whatever horror he just went through.
He pulls out, then thrusts inside me again, this time with all his strength.
It hurts.
Give me your pain, Miles.
“My God, Rachel,” he whispers.
My God, Rachel . . .
Rachel, Rachel, Rachel.
That word gets put on repeat inside my head.
My.
God.
Rachel.
I turn my head away from his. It’s the worst pain I’ve ever felt. The absolute worst.
His body immediately stills inside mine when he realizes what he said. The only thing moving between us right now are the tears falling from my eyes.
“Tate,” he whispers, shattering the silence between us. “Tate, I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head, but the tears won’t stop. Somewhere deep inside me, I feel something harden. Something that was once liquid completely freezes, and it’s in this moment that I know this is it.
That name.
It said it all. I’ll never have his past, because she has it.
I’ll never have his future, because he refuses to give it to anyone who isn’t her.
And I’ll never know why, because he’ll never tell me.
He begins to pull out of me, but I tighten my legs around his. He sighs heavily against my cheek. “I swear to God, Tate. I wasn’t thinking about—”
“Stop,” I whisper. I don’t want to hear him defend what just happened. “Just finish, Miles.”
He lifts his head and looks down at me. I see the apology, clear as day, hiding behind fresh tears. I don’t know if it’s my words that have just cut him again or the fact that we both know this is it, but it looks like his heart just broke again.
If that’s even possible.
A tear falls from his eyes and lands on my cheek. I feel it roll down and combine with one of my own.
I just want this to be over.
I wrap my hand around the back of his head and pull his mouth to mine. He’s not moving inside me anymore, so I arch my back, pressing my hips harder against him. He moans in my mouth and moves against me once, then stops again. “Tate,” he says against my lips.
“Just finish, Miles,” I say to him through my tears. “Just finish.”
He places a palm against my cheek and he presses his lips to my ear. We’re both crying harder now, and I can see that I’m more than this to him. I know I am. I feel how much he wants to love me, but whatever is stopping him is more than I’m able to conquer. I wrap my arms around his neck. “Please,” I beg him. “Please, Miles.” I’m crying, begging for something, but I don’t even know what it is anymore.
He thrusts against me. Hard this time. So hard I scoot away from him, so he wraps his arms under my shoulders and cups his hands upward, holding me in place against him as he repeatedly pushes into me. Hard, long, deep thrusts that force moans out of both of us with every movement.
“Harder,” I beg.
He pushes harder.
“Faster.”
He moves faster.
We’re both gasping for breath between our tears. It’s intense. It’s heartbreaking. It’s devastating.
It’s ugly.
It’s over.
As soon as his body is motionless on top of mine, I push against his shoulders. He rolls off of me. I sit up and wipe my eyes with my hands, then stand up and pull on my underwear. His fingers wrap around my ankle. The same fingers that wrapped around the same ankle the first night I met him.
“Tate,” he says, his voice riddled with everything. Every single emotion wraps itself around each letter of my name as it comes out of his mouth.
I pull away from his grasp.
I walk to the door, still feeling him inside me. Still tasting his mouth on mine. Still feeling the stains of his tears against my cheek.
I open the door and walk out.
I close the door behind me, and it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I can’t even walk the three feet back to my apartment.
I collapse in the hallway.
I’m liquid.
Nothing but tears.



Chapter thirty-four

MILES

Six years earlier
We went home. Not to our home.
Rachel wanted Lisa. Rachel needs her mother.
I kind of need my father.
Every night I hold her. Every night I tell her I’m sorry. Every night we just cry.
I don’t understand how it can be so perfect. How life and love and people can be so perfect and beautiful.
Then it’s not. It’s so ugly.
Life and love and people become ugly.
It all becomes water.
Tonight is different. This night is the first night in three weeks when she’s not crying. I hold her anyway. I want to be happy that she’s not crying, but it scares me. Her tears mean she feels something. Even if that something is devastation, it’s still something. There aren’t any tears tonight.
I hold her anyway. I tell her I’m sorry again.
She never tells me it’s okay.