Jackson takes a step closer, shaking his head at my request. “I’m not leaving you.”

There’s no way he’s going to walk away on his own—it’s not who he is. This is the man who’d stand in front of a bullet and bear the pain so someone else wouldn’t have to. But I don’t need a hero. “I’m not asking you, Jackson. I’m telling you to leave. I want to be alone. I can’t deal with anything else right now.”

He strides toward me with his lips pursed. “Don’t push me away. Don’t make me the bad guy here.” He reaches for me, but I take a step back.

I throw my hands up. “Really? Push you away? You pushed me away back there before the fight. I didn’t do that—you did. I needed you! Do you have any idea what this was like for me today? Huh?” I step forward and push against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. Instead he stands there and lets me unleash my fury. “Did you think about how this would be for me when you beat the shit out of him? Did you hear me screaming and begging you to stop? My God! Do you get it now? I was engaged to him. He was supposed to love me and cherish me! But instead he pushed me away, cheated on me. He left me for someone else because she was better than me!” I slap my hand against his chest, broken and hurt, but he doesn’t move. He takes it. “I need to be more than that, Jackson. I need to be someone’s everything. I deserve that! I’m tired … I’m tired of being hurt. I want to be enough already!” I take a few steps back, needing some space.

Jackson takes another step, but I put my hands up to stop him. No. He can’t touch me. He’s already shown me what all the important men in my life have told me—I’m not enough. Not good enough to open up to. Not enough to share himself with. Will I ever be enough? “Don’t touch me.” Jackson’s face contorts as if I’ve slapped him.

“Really, Catherine?” He shifts forward and clenches his jaw.

I take a shaky breath before continuing, “In the last two hours, I’ve had to face every f**king man in my life who’s ever meant anything to me—my father, Neil, and now you. I can’t do this. Please, just go!” I shake my head over and over, trying to grab on to the anger instead of the crushing pain of pushing him away.

“You think this has been easy for me? I’ve never made you feel irrelevant. I haven’t cheated on you, or hurt you. No, I’ve been there for you, giving you everything I could. I held you when you cried and listened to you. I didn’t make you feel cheap or worthless.” His hands are shaking as he pauses to take a deep breath. “I’ve tried to be the man you say you deserve. Tell me what I did to make you think otherwise! So I pulled away on the train—we got past that. Did I get pissed off and beat the shit out of your f**king ass**le ex? Yes! And if he f**king touched you again, I would’ve killed him. Is this about him? Do you still love him?”

I gasp and press my fingers to my lips, shaking my head back and forth in disbelief. How could he think that? “This has nothing to do with him. But it has everything to do with me.”

“So you’re going to take this out on me? I deserve this?”

We stand there in the middle of my living room, staring at each other, trying to get the resolution we’re each fighting for. I look away and glance at his shirt. The blood there reminds me of everything that’s happened.

“I just need time.” The faint whisper of a voice I manage to get out sounds so broken—even to me.

His head tilts back as he grips his hair. “Fucking time? Time to what? Push me away and convince yourself that I’m like him. Are you sure you want me to leave? You’re ready for me to walk away?”

“I need some damn time. I can’t think with you around!” I turn away from him.

“You want me to walk out so you can hate me and blame me for leaving you. Well I won’t let you play some f**king bullshit game with me.”

I let out a breathy laugh and roll my eyes. “A game? You think this is a game for me? What do I win, huh?”

“You tell me. You’re the one telling me to leave. I can’t f**king believe this.” He throws his hands up and then claps them against his legs. “If I walk out this door, I won’t come back until I know you want me here.”

“I’m used to watching men walk out the door.” I say bitterly.

“Maybe you should stop pushing them out, then.”

My heart stops as his words rip my chest apart. The pain is dragging me under, but he’s standing there, watching the tears fall, watching how deep his words cut. “You don’t know a f**king thing.”

“I know you’re fighting me because you’re afraid. You think I’m like every other man. Have I hurt you? Have I lied to you?”

“Not yet!” I cry out.

Jackson takes a step closer. His breathing is heavy but he’s trying to keep his tone soft. “You’ve already sentenced me for someone else’s crime.”

I weep into my hands because he’s right. “You can’t expect me to process all of what happened today with you here. My feelings for you … they scare me. You make me feel too much! Every time you’re around or you touch me, I lose something inside,” I say earnestly.

“You think it’s any different for me? I fought against this! Every time you walked in the room, I fought the urge to take you. If you think you’re the only one who loses, you’re wrong.” His voice grows warm and seductive. “Somehow, at every turn, you’ve made me feel more than I’ve wanted to.”

He closes the distance and I’m unable to fight him anymore. I allow his arms to hold me one last time. After this, I won’t let him back in.

“Please,” I cry into his chest as he clutches me to him. “Please, if you care, let me have time to think.”

His arms fall from my back and he slowly moves to hold my face, tilting it so we’re staring into each other’s eyes. Jackson’s expression is pained, but his eyes express so much more. “Fine. You win. I’ll go.” His eyes close as though the words are bitter in his mouth. When they open again he looks fierce and determined. “But hear me. You’re it for me, Catherine.” His thumb brushes a tear from my cheek. “I’m not walking away from you or us. I wasn’t ready to love again when you came crashing into me. But you made me want to try again.” Our lips touch briefly. When he looks back up, his eyes are intense. “Leaving you right now goes against every f**king thing I want. I’m going to let you push me away this once. But I mean it, when I walk out it’s up to you when I come back. Don’t make me wait too long.” He leans down and places a long, tender kiss upon my lips. Our eyes meet again and he waits for a second before continuing, “I told you I’ll always find you, but you have to want to be found. Let me find you, Catherine.”

Without another word, his hands disappear. I want to beg him to stay, but I need him to go. It’s as though someone is sawing me in half. I’m fighting against the pull, but I honestly don’t know what I want anymore. He opens the door and hesitates, turning back to give me a sad smile before walking out.

When the door closes, I fall to the ground and let out a strangled sob. What have I done? Why does this always have to be so hard?