Page 46 of Let's Be Forever

She chuckles, but quickly muffles it. “Sorry.”

“What?” I quirk a brow.

“Nothing. I don’t have many videos or pictures of Rosie in the hospital, but?—”

“No, don’t do that. Tell me.”

We used to speak our minds, and now we’re tiptoeing around each other, filtering what we should and shouldn’t say. I know it’s my fault, but I hate it.

The corner of her mouth jerks up. “Since when do you say ‘I hope you don’t mind’?”

“Since my mouth has gotten me in trouble and is the reason I made the biggest mistake of my life.”

Before I uttered the words that ended our relationship, I’d been filled with a sense of dread, as if my body knew what I was going to do and warned me against it. But I didn’t listen, despite how every cell inside me resisted.

I knew I fucked up, but I couldn’t bring myself to do anything about it. I was chained to the void in my head.

Until now.

I desperately want to fix it or at least for her to know I regret it. That I loved her then and have loved her every day since.

Anna tenses next to me, and her fingers freeze mid scroll. Her gaze stays trained on her screen, but the finger hovering over it droops down.

“I regret it,” I admit, shaking my head. “I regret ending things.”

She drums her fingers on her thigh, mulling over her next words, then looks at me. Her eyes are distant, devoid of any emotion. She draws back an inch, but she might as well be miles away. That’s how far she feels.

“Don’t say that to me.” Anna’s voice is monotone.

I glance at the space between us, needing to acknowledge it. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No, you’re making it hard to breathe.” She scowls, blowing out an agitated breath, and stands. “I want to make this work. I want to be able to co-parent and get along. To do that, you can’t bring up the past. I don’t need your regrets. I don’t want them.”

I stand, unable to contain myself anymore.

“Anna, you are my past, my present, my future. I have regrets.” I point at my chest. “So many of them and they all started when I broke up with you. That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life.” So many emotions flicker across her face. She looks like she’s in pain, with her eyebrows pulled together, her lip wedged between her teeth, her glassy eyes.

“Every single day, I hate myself for doing it. I go to sleep regretting that I let you go. I need to tell you how I feel because I don’t want this to be something else I regret. So if you need to hate me for bringing up the past, because I fucked it all up, for everything you had to go through, then please do. Because I’d rather spend the rest of my life knowing that you hate me than to ever have to wonder what you feel for me.”

The words break free, bouncing over every surface in my condo.

She stares at me nonplussed, like she’s struggling to grasp what I’m saying. “So you’re telling me you’re okay with that? You’d be okay with me hating you for the rest of our lives?”

I don’t hesitate when I answer. “You’d feel something for me, so yeah. Something is better than nothing.”

I said what I said and I won’t take it back. But I can’t tell what she’s feeling at my admission.

“Sylas…” Anna starts, exhaling a heavy breath. “I—no. We can’t do this. I don’t want—no. I’m here for Rosie, not for us.”She retreats before she’s spinning on her heels and heading to the elevator.

I’m rushing behind her. “Anna, wait, please don’t?—”

I abruptly stop when she whips back around. “Ibeggedyou not to break up with me!” Her voice is brimming with rage, but looks forlorn. “I asked you what I needed to do to make you feel better, to make it work, to stop you from leaving me because I didn’t want you to! I said I’d come back from France. I told you I’d do everything and anything for you and you still said ‘it’s for the best’ as if all the years we spent together meant nothing. As ifImeant nothing to you.”

My heart races, and my damp fingers curl and become stiff. There’s no ringing in my ears, and my vision doesn’t tunnel, but I still feel like I’m outside my body. Why can’t I function properly? I know why, but I hate that this happens. I hate that I don’t have control.

I blink out of my stupor or at least attempt to. “No, that’s not true. You mean everything to?—”

“I can’t do this.” Her voice cracks, but the words are definitive. “I need…I’ll…you…”