The Ending I Want
Page 84
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I’m glad you had your grandpa to talk to about it.”
He gives me a half-smile but doesn’t say anything.
He lets go of my hand and strokes my face with his fingers, running my hair behind my ear. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says softly.
I flatten my palm on his chest, moving my fingers through the soft hair there. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”
But I don’t deserve to be.
I’m lying to him. Like Kate did. Maybe not in the same way or for the same reasons, but I am deceiving him.
And deceit in any form is just the same at the end of the day.
Lies. They cause the same horrific damage.
Liam doesn’t deserve to be lied to anymore. And he doesn’t deserve to be hurt—far from it. He deserves everything good that life has to offer.
But how can I tell him that I’m dying? That I want to die.
I can’t. Because I’m afraid.
I really am as selfish as I always believed myself to be.
If I were a better person, I would tell him. But I’m not a better person.
I’m Taylor Shaw, the coward. The selfish bitch.
The destroyer of lives.
But I don’t have to be that person anymore. I can leave him and clear my conscience, knowing that, while I was still breathing, I didn’t fail at the last thing I did here on earth.
I could tell him the truth.
Be worthy of the time and care he’s given to me.
But then I fear that he would try to talk me out of my decision.
He could only talk me out of it if I wanted to be talked out of it.
And I don’t. I can do this.
I can tell him.
The words are there. Right on the tip of my tongue.
It would be so easy to tell him…well, not easy, but right. And freeing, not having to lie to him anymore.
I can tell him the truth, tell him everything. About my family. What I did to them. How their deaths are on my hands. Tell him that the tumor is back. But that it’s okay. Because I want to die. I want to be with them.
That this tumor is setting me free, so I can be with them.
But then he moves closer to me, pressing his body to mine, and he kisses me.
I let him. And then I use that as the excuse to let the truth stay locked in my mind.
And when he breathes against my lips, “I want you,” I tell him to take me.
I say nothing when he lifts my leg, placing it over his hip. Tilting me back slightly, he pushes his leg beneath mine on the bed, putting my other leg between his. Keeping us both on our sides, our bodies pressed together, eyes locked on each other, he slowly slides inside me.
“You’re so wet already,” he whispers.
I shut out the voice in my head that’s yelling at me to stop this. Urging me to tell him the truth.
“Because I want you.”
And I do want him. That’s the problem.
I want him badly. Enough to keep me selfish to hide the truth from him.
Because, deep down inside, I know that, if I tell Liam the truth, I’ll let him change my mind. The weak part of me…my heart…she wants him so very badly. She wants to stay here with him, like this, forever.
And if I give her that window of opportunity, she’ll take it, and I won’t be able to stop her.
But I can’t do that.
I can’t stay. I have to go.
I owe my family that much. I need their forgiveness. I need to hear them say they forgive me.
So, I’ll keep lying to Liam, which means I can be with him during the time I have left.
Selfish Bitch Taylor.
Maybe when I get to heaven and kick Kate’s ass to hell, I’ll take my own selfish, lying ass there, too.
Holy God.
Liam is standing outside my hotel room door, wearing one of his three-piece suits. It’s blue, his shirt is white, and his tie is red. Like the colors in his company logo. His hair is all slicked back and parted over to the side. He looks hot and sexy and gorgeous and a million other adjectives that describe how amazing a person can look.
Liam wearing a suit isn’t something new to me. But with the way he’s wearing his hair, the tender smile in his eyes, the colors of his clothes…the very colors that I have branded on my skin in the form of his name…he just looks different somehow.
I lift my eyes heavenward. God, you did really good when you made Liam Hunter. Really, really good.
I bring my eyes to him and smile. “Well, look at you, all handsome and hot.”
He catches me around the waist, pulling me to him. “You look beautiful and hot and sexy. I want to lift this dress up and get down on my knees, so I can put my mouth on your pussy and taste you right now,” he whispers over my mouth before pressing his lips to mine.
Wow.
I shudder as his tongue curls around mine. He tastes like mint and hot sex and everything Liam.
His fingers skim down the back of my dress, cupping my ass through it. The un-tattooed ass cheek.
I’m wearing the last nice dress I have that I brought with me. It’s white and strappy, fitted around the bust and floats off the hips, and it’s pretty. Liam told me to wear something pretty. So, pretty, I’m wearing.
His lips slow, and his eyes focus on mine. I’m sure mine are filled with lust right now. Oodles of lust.
“But my Boston tasting will have to wait, as we have to go.”
“Oh, okay.” Can’t say I’m not a little disappointed, but I also know that Liam going down on me would, without a doubt, end up in sex. And I don’t want to get all messed up. I look pretty.
“You got everything you need?” he asks, releasing me.
I pat the clutch—holding my lipstick, cell, money, and key card—under my arm, which somehow managed to remain tucked there after his hot kiss. “Ready. So, where are we going?” I ask, taking his offered hand, letting the door close behind me.
“I’m glad you had your grandpa to talk to about it.”
He gives me a half-smile but doesn’t say anything.
He lets go of my hand and strokes my face with his fingers, running my hair behind my ear. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says softly.
I flatten my palm on his chest, moving my fingers through the soft hair there. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”
But I don’t deserve to be.
I’m lying to him. Like Kate did. Maybe not in the same way or for the same reasons, but I am deceiving him.
And deceit in any form is just the same at the end of the day.
Lies. They cause the same horrific damage.
Liam doesn’t deserve to be lied to anymore. And he doesn’t deserve to be hurt—far from it. He deserves everything good that life has to offer.
But how can I tell him that I’m dying? That I want to die.
I can’t. Because I’m afraid.
I really am as selfish as I always believed myself to be.
If I were a better person, I would tell him. But I’m not a better person.
I’m Taylor Shaw, the coward. The selfish bitch.
The destroyer of lives.
But I don’t have to be that person anymore. I can leave him and clear my conscience, knowing that, while I was still breathing, I didn’t fail at the last thing I did here on earth.
I could tell him the truth.
Be worthy of the time and care he’s given to me.
But then I fear that he would try to talk me out of my decision.
He could only talk me out of it if I wanted to be talked out of it.
And I don’t. I can do this.
I can tell him.
The words are there. Right on the tip of my tongue.
It would be so easy to tell him…well, not easy, but right. And freeing, not having to lie to him anymore.
I can tell him the truth, tell him everything. About my family. What I did to them. How their deaths are on my hands. Tell him that the tumor is back. But that it’s okay. Because I want to die. I want to be with them.
That this tumor is setting me free, so I can be with them.
But then he moves closer to me, pressing his body to mine, and he kisses me.
I let him. And then I use that as the excuse to let the truth stay locked in my mind.
And when he breathes against my lips, “I want you,” I tell him to take me.
I say nothing when he lifts my leg, placing it over his hip. Tilting me back slightly, he pushes his leg beneath mine on the bed, putting my other leg between his. Keeping us both on our sides, our bodies pressed together, eyes locked on each other, he slowly slides inside me.
“You’re so wet already,” he whispers.
I shut out the voice in my head that’s yelling at me to stop this. Urging me to tell him the truth.
“Because I want you.”
And I do want him. That’s the problem.
I want him badly. Enough to keep me selfish to hide the truth from him.
Because, deep down inside, I know that, if I tell Liam the truth, I’ll let him change my mind. The weak part of me…my heart…she wants him so very badly. She wants to stay here with him, like this, forever.
And if I give her that window of opportunity, she’ll take it, and I won’t be able to stop her.
But I can’t do that.
I can’t stay. I have to go.
I owe my family that much. I need their forgiveness. I need to hear them say they forgive me.
So, I’ll keep lying to Liam, which means I can be with him during the time I have left.
Selfish Bitch Taylor.
Maybe when I get to heaven and kick Kate’s ass to hell, I’ll take my own selfish, lying ass there, too.
Holy God.
Liam is standing outside my hotel room door, wearing one of his three-piece suits. It’s blue, his shirt is white, and his tie is red. Like the colors in his company logo. His hair is all slicked back and parted over to the side. He looks hot and sexy and gorgeous and a million other adjectives that describe how amazing a person can look.
Liam wearing a suit isn’t something new to me. But with the way he’s wearing his hair, the tender smile in his eyes, the colors of his clothes…the very colors that I have branded on my skin in the form of his name…he just looks different somehow.
I lift my eyes heavenward. God, you did really good when you made Liam Hunter. Really, really good.
I bring my eyes to him and smile. “Well, look at you, all handsome and hot.”
He catches me around the waist, pulling me to him. “You look beautiful and hot and sexy. I want to lift this dress up and get down on my knees, so I can put my mouth on your pussy and taste you right now,” he whispers over my mouth before pressing his lips to mine.
Wow.
I shudder as his tongue curls around mine. He tastes like mint and hot sex and everything Liam.
His fingers skim down the back of my dress, cupping my ass through it. The un-tattooed ass cheek.
I’m wearing the last nice dress I have that I brought with me. It’s white and strappy, fitted around the bust and floats off the hips, and it’s pretty. Liam told me to wear something pretty. So, pretty, I’m wearing.
His lips slow, and his eyes focus on mine. I’m sure mine are filled with lust right now. Oodles of lust.
“But my Boston tasting will have to wait, as we have to go.”
“Oh, okay.” Can’t say I’m not a little disappointed, but I also know that Liam going down on me would, without a doubt, end up in sex. And I don’t want to get all messed up. I look pretty.
“You got everything you need?” he asks, releasing me.
I pat the clutch—holding my lipstick, cell, money, and key card—under my arm, which somehow managed to remain tucked there after his hot kiss. “Ready. So, where are we going?” I ask, taking his offered hand, letting the door close behind me.
