Page 212 of Tangled with the Tight End

A tear comes to my eye and I don’t bother swiping it. I don’t want her to think this is easy when I’ve never felt more pain in my life.

“We can't do this. I can't watch you be eaten alive by the media. I want to protect you. You deserve to be safe.” I squeeze her hand. “I can't live with myself knowing I'm the one who is shedding a spotlight on you and bringing unwarranted hate and constant scrutiny to your doorstep.”

She shakes her head, reaching out and cupping my jaw. “I'm willing to endure all of it, Declan. If that's the price of loving you, I'll pay it.”

I smile over at her. It’s a weak smile, full of sadness and regret.

“If I believed this kind of hate had an expiration date, I'd let you endure it. Even though it breaks me knowing what you've had to go through on my behalf. But the fact is, this is one storm. There will be many more—unpredictable, repeated, never-ending storms. I can't ask you to put yourself into a lifestyle where you are constantly stalked and belittled.”

Her bright blue eyes hold mine and I wordlessly plead with her to know my heart.

“I can't be the reason you are stalked and mocked and hated by people who don't even know you.”

Winona stares at me, searching my eyes, turning her hand over and clasping mine.

When she speaks, her voice cracks. “Maybe I don't belong in your world.” She shakes her head as if fighting conflicting thoughts.

She reaches out to cup my jaw again. Her touch is a comfort and a taunt. I’ll never have this again.

Quietly, she says, “Maybe love isn't enough when the whole world is bent on tearing us apart.”

I nod. “That’s what Kate said too.”

I don’t mention my parents’ call. I don’t tell her about the conversation I had with the guys on our group chat before I went to sleep. They started out by telling me I’m crazy. They said Winona’s the best thing that ever happened to me—as if I don’t know that. But, by the time I had explained my thoughts, they agreed. I owe her this.

Winona looks at me. “Can I have a hug?” Tears stream down her cheeks.

My tears start falling too.

This is it. The end.

I tug her into a hug and we hold on to one another. I whisper, “I love you,” into her hair and she says, “I’ll always love you, Declan. Always.”

When she pulls back, tilting her head up to look at me, her face is splotchy and red, her eyes slightly bloodshot. I’m sure I’m a mirror of her pain.

I place one soft kiss on her lips.

Then I reach out and wipe a tear off her cheek.

She wipes one off mine.

“I wish it were different,” I tell her.

“I know. Me too.”

She stands to leave. “I could stay, but … then what?”

“Do you want to take Geese?” I ask like we’re in a divorce and we have to figure out custody.

“No. Geese is yours.”

“I’ll take good care of her.”

“You always have.”

We’re silent on the walk out to her car. I hug her again, holding on longer than usual. She clings to me and then she pulls away.

“I understand why you’re doing this.” She steps away, looking into my eyes one last time.