Page 164 of The Score

"It doesn't matter," I say. "If I don't, you'll never get the kind of love you want."

"Is that true? Will I really not get the kind of love I want?"

His words come out through grinding teeth. Monotone. Vulnerable, somehow. It brings me to a standstill.

"Could you trust me fully?" Bear asks in the same tone. "After what happened?"

"I— of course.Leon—"

"Penélope. Could we fall in love?"

His dark eyes stare unblinkingly. Intensely. Daring me, now that he's saying things that were forbidden before.

Those warring voices in my head scream and yell at each other. My heart begs for me to be brave, while every memory I've ever had about love stands in the way.

"You want the kind of love I can't offer." My voice comes out thin, barely more than a whisper. Spikes needle through my vocal cords. It's an old, automatic response.

The line of his lips change. My answer hurts him.

The fact that it hurts me too comes as a shock.

"Can't you?" he asks.

I test the old fight one more time. I need to make sure.

"Bear. You deserve the kind of romance you read about."

Well, that one is true enough. It pierces through the little confidence I had built. But for all that Bear knows me through and through, he can't see me clearly in this.

His eyes turn to glass. "Why are you so afraid to love me like this?"

Maybe he can. He's right. There's a lot of fear there. It pulses a steady rhythm inside my chest. At least, this is an answer that comes easily.

I tried so hard to test myself. To find ways to create romance, and scenes that make people sigh, and moments that make people dream. I failed every single time. Birds never sang the moment I thought of the people I dated. No one saw stars in my eyes. My chest never ached the moment someone walked away. All my pain came from how hard I failed.

"I am not good at the kind of love you want," I finally say. "Given enough time, enough chances, you'd realize what I already know. Then, what? I've survived heartbreak before, but I wouldn't survive losing you."

Everything inside me goes silent. The truth of what I said echoes in the empty space, bouncing off the memory of the first time I had the thought, and the risk we're taking right now.

A million different ways, a thousand different words, spread through twenty years together, but they all echoed one truth. Bear is the one love I could not do without.

"Fuck, Pen." He frowns. "I'm not having this conversation over the phone. You are my favorite person. You're mysoulmate. If nothing else, I know I'm choosing you."

"What? I—"

"I'm coming home."

He hangs up.

Silence turns loud. My screen locks, then goes black. The phone lands somewhere on my bed. I land on my side. I don't blink. I tear up.

That did not go well. The voices start screaming in my head again, pointing out how much is still unsaid.

He focused too much on how I would feel about the news, afraid I wouldn't trust him now. But I can't even think about the video or his fines or anything else, because he's asking me if we could fall in love. Like that's the answer we really need. And it may very well be, but it's a checkmate to the promises I made to him in my head.

I thought letting him go was the way to keep him. That I couldn't love him right, so I'd love him how I could. Silly me, to never realize that came from loving him too much already.

And now it's too late, because I fell for my best friend, and I didn't even know it.