Tinder, Love and Care

24. Wishful Thinking

Justice POV;

She shouldn't have said it. Matter fact, she didn't say it.

But she had, and I'd helped her open up Pandora's Box because I can't help myself around her. I lose all the good sense my momma gave me every time I'm in her orbit.

Hyacinthe Claiborne was my ending, and she didn't even know it.

She gave herself to me freely, but I can't withstand the responsibility of her heart. Of my heart. Love was going beyond the friendship...relationship we'd built.

I couldn't let Cinthe love me, and I sure as fuck couldn't love her back. No matter how well her body fit in mine or how indescribable the feeling of waking up beside her was.

In the past, plenty of women had fucked with me enough to have feelings I hadn't quite reciprocated. I wasn't a saint and I damn sure wasn't the devil, but this might be my karma anyway.

Because this wasn't like anything I'd ever had before. This was heavy and real, and now that I was feeling more than I ever had, I wasn't completely sure that I was prepared for her. Or rather, I wasn't prepared for the inevitable hurt of her.

"You alright?" Hyacinthe questioned beside me. It was about the third time she'd asked if I was ok, but each time she used different words.

"Yea. I'm straight." I responded, hands tightening slightly on the wheel as I drove toward her apartment. It was probably the only way I could stop myself from touching her thigh or putting her hand in mine.

Considering I couldn't even look her in the eye for more than a few seconds at a time, touching was out of the question. Especially since I doubt she felt reassured by anything I'd said.

"Right." She said, weariness clear in her voice, but I knew she wouldn't press the issue.

Our understanding of each other wasn't linear. There were still hidden secrets that we had to discover, and this just happened to be one of them.

She wasn't sure how to move forward, already vulnerable from the realization that led to her confession. Truth be told, I wasn't entirely sure how to go on from this either.

Spending the weekend together and talking about my dad had been the wake-up call I needed from this false reality Cinthe and I were living in.

Love wasn't the solution to any and every problem, and like all things, it ends. Love didn't stop my family from missing a piece, and love wasn't going to keep Cinthe with me.

We would end if we kept going like this, and I'm not 'bout to sit back and let it happen. Friends is all we can be, but that doesn't mean I'm not gone need time accepting it.

Especially when I have to erase all the memories of the soft feel of her russet skin and the contortions of her face as she cums.

But I'd do it all to make sure Cinthe didn't become something I loved. Love for me never lasts, and she deserves more than what I could give her.

She'd always be fighting for the slices of love I could stand to lose, which meant she'd never get the whole thing. And she'd pretend to be fine with it at first, but grappling, unsatisfying love had a way of rotting your soul.

Except the selfish part of me would never let her go. It didn't matter that she won't understand because this is the only way to preserve and salvage what we'd given each other. Any other option would destroy the garden we'd nurtured and tarnish every flower.

Hyacinthe couldn't be mine, but I don't know how I'll cope with her being someone else's.

🦋