Between The Lines

Chapter 124: Elegant Script

Suddenly, his footsteps echoed across the auditorium floor, and before I could protest, he was right behind me. His hand reached out, brushing against mine as he grabbed hold of the lights, his fingers warm against my skin.

I yanked my hand back like I'd been burned. "I said I'm fine."

But Lane didn't move away. He just stood there, close enough that I could feel the heat of him, smell the faint scent of his cologne. My heart was racing, and I hated it. Hated how my body reacted to him, even when my brain was screaming at me to stay angry.

"Rebecca." His voice was low, gentle, like he was trying to coax me into calming down. "Can we talk?"

I let out a bitter laugh, finally turning to face him. "Talk? Now you want to talk?"

He flinched, and for a second, I saw the vulnerability in his eyes. But I didn't care. I was too angry. Too hurt.

"Where was this 'talking' when you decided to shut me out for weeks?" I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. "Where was this when I was falling apart, and you couldn't be bothered to let me in?"

His jaw tightened, and he took a step closer, his eyes locked onto mine. "I know I messed up."

"Messed up?" I scoffed, shaking my head. "That's the understatement of the year."

"I wasn't ready," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "To open that letter. To face what it meant."

I froze, my heart skipping a beat. He had finally opened it. The letter from his mother.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if I was even ready to hear what he had to say. But the way he was looking at me—the intensity in his eyes—it was too much.

"I didn't want to hurt you," he continued, his voice soft. "But I did, and I'm sorry."

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. "It's not just about the letter, Lane. It's about everything. You shut me out. You made me feel like I wasn't important to you."

"You are," he said, stepping closer again, his voice desperate. "You're the most important person in my life, Rebecca. I just... I didn't know how to handle it all. Losing her, losing myself... I didn't want to lose you too."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with emotion. "But you did lose me. You lost me when you decided I wasn't worth letting in."

He reached for me then, his hand brushing against my arm, and I flinched. But he didn't pull away. Instead, his fingers trailed down my arm, leaving a burning trail in their wake. "I'm not asking for you to forgive me right now. I just... I just need you to know how much you mean to me."

I blinked, the weight of his words sinking in, but the frustration, the anger—it was still there. I couldn't let go of it so easily.

"And what? You think you can just come in here, touch me, say a few sweet things, and everything will be okay?" I snapped, pulling my arm away from him.

"No," he said softly, stepping closer again. "I know it's going to take time. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

I laughed, bitter and sharp. "Time? Lane, I've been giving you time. And all it's done is make me feel like an idiot for loving you."

His eyes darkened at my words, and I could see the way they hit him, like a physical blow. "You're not an idiot," he whispered. "I'm the idiot. For not seeing what I had before it was almost too late."

There it was again—that vulnerability. The crack in his armor.

I wanted to scream at him, to push him away and tell him to leave me alone. But at the same time, I wanted to fall into him, to let him hold me and make everything better. But it wasn't that simple. Nothing with Lane ever was.