His Secret Obsession by Nichole Rose

 

Chapter Six

Gwen

 

"Jessa, what are you doing back so ear…" I trail off as soon as I step out of my room and see Cyrus standing in the living room instead of his sister. His face is scruffy, and he has shadows around his eyes like he didn't sleep any more than I did last night. Somehow, he found the time to change out of his suit into a pair of sweats and an Air Force t-shirt though. It's not fair that he can look devasted and devastatingly handsome at the same exact time.

"Princess," he says, his blue eyes roving over me in meticulous examination.

I tug the edges of my old robe closed over my Mighty Mouse pajamas, wishing I'd actually gotten out of the bed two hours ago when I woke up. But I didn't have the energy to do it. Truth be told, I kind of planned to stay in there until I have to go back to work on Monday.

"I'm too tired to fight with you right now," I say, taking a step backward when he moves closer.

"I didn't come here to fight with you. I need you to pack a bag and come with me."

I stare at him for a minute, trying to figure out if he's completely lost his mind. I'm pretty sure he has. "I'm not moving in with you, Cyrus. We discussed this last night."

"No, we didn't. You got out about six years' worth of heartache. And I let you because I know it's been a long time coming, Gwen. I've been breaking your heart since the day I met you," he says, taking another step closer. "I've said and done all the wrong things and convinced myself it was in your best interest. I was wrong, and I was an asshole. But you said what you had to say last night. Now I'm asking you…I'm begging you to let me say what I need to say."

Those blue eyes are so earnest, so somber.

"Fine, say it," I say, crossing my arms to keep my robe closed over my chest. As if that'll give me the strength to resist him. It won't. Now that I've cried myself out, I just feel…broken. How am I supposed to leave him behind when every dream I've had about the future for years have included him? I've been asking myself the same question all night long and I still don't have an answer.

He's supposed to be with me. In my dreams, that's how it works. He's the one at my side for everything. That's the future I want, the one that includes him. Without him, the rest just seems empty. If following my dreams means leaving him behind, I don't want to do it. I've tried all night to tell myself that I don't have a choice, but I just keep coming back to the fact that it's not supposed to go that way.

I want to be his. I want to go back to yesterday, when we were in that hotel room, and I felt like my life finally made sense. Standing across from him but feeling like I can't touch him is killing me. My heart hurts, and he's the only one on this entire planet capable of taking that pain away.

Hell, I want to go back to two years ago, right before he deployed. For the first time ever, we were in a good place. We were getting along. I had hope. And then he deployed, and everything changed. We lost that place. We lost us. Before we ever end had a chance to find out what we could be together, we lost it. And I can't pretend that doesn't hurt like hell.

"I can't," he says, grimacing. "Every time I try, it comes out wrong and you get a little further out of my reach. So I'm not going to say it. I'm going to show you. And I need you to let me do that. If you never want to see me again after, I'll honor that wish."

I hesitate, torn between the voice screaming yes and the one telling me to guard my heart.

"Please," he whispers.

I crumble like old paper left out in the sun too long.

"I need to shower and change."

"I'll wait."

Ruby chooses that moment to wander out of Jessa's room. Usually, she comes running as soon as she hears someone at the door. I guess she's pouting because Jessa left with a bag and not her. She looks between me and Cyrus, and then barks once and sits down, looking at him expectantly.

"Come here then," he says, squatting down and holding out a hand to her.

She jumps up and trots toward him.

"I'm watching her this weekend," I say. "Jessa has plans."

"With Jax?" Cyrus scoops Ruby up in one palm and rises, flipping her over to scratch her belly. I think God made little dogs just to remind women that we're not as strong as we think we are, because seeing this man with Ruby makes me weak.

"Yes."

He doesn't look mad, but Jax is his best friend, and Jessa is his baby sister. He's protective as hell of her, which is one of the reasons Jessa and Jax have resisted one another for so long. They don't want to hurt him, but they belong together. I'm so glad Jax finally decided that he was done being a crazy person and told her how he felt. He's going to make her so happy.

Cyrus grunts. I'm not sure if it's an annoyed grunt or a resigned one.

"He's good to her, " I remind him. "And he's good for her. No one will ever treat her better."

"I know." He keeps his eyes on Ruby, sighing. "They deserve happiness."

"Yeah, they do, " I agree softly. "You knew?"

"Yeah, I knew."

"You're not going to try to stop them," I say, not really surprised. One of Jessa's biggest fears has always been coming between Jax and Cyrus, especially since Jax inherited his estranged father's fortune six months ago. He was thrown into a world he knows nothing about and needs every friend he has right now.

Cyrus may be bossy and difficult and a million other things, but he's not heartless. He loves Jax, and he'd do anything for Jessa. If Jax makes her happy, he'll support them a thousand percent. And if Jax ever makes her cry, he'll hide his body where no one will ever find it.

I'll help.

I like Jax, but Jessa is my bestie. We all have that one friend we'd do anything for, no questions asked. That's Jessa. If Jax breaks her heart, I'll buy the shovel, dig the hole, and then dance on his grave after the job is done. I know she'd do the same for me…which is why I always kept my feelings about her brother to myself. Cyrus has been her hero for as long as I've known her. I never wanted to put her in the middle or make her feel like she had to choose sides.

"Go get ready, princess. We'll take Ruby with us."

I watch him for another minute, my heart in my throat, and then turn to go back to my room.

"Pack one of your pretty dresses," he says.

"Pack a dress?" I frown over my shoulder at him. "Where are we going, Cyrus?"

"You'll see."

"What kind of dress do I need?"

He doesn't say anything.

"Cyrus! You can't just tell me to pack a pretty dress and then not tell me anything else. Do I need a formal dress or a summer dress or a night out dress or a funeral dress or a business-attire dress? There are a million different kinds of dresses," I complain, which only makes him smile.

"Pack whatever kind of dress you want to pack, Gwen," he says. "You'll be the most gorgeous woman in the room regardless of what you wear."

"Please don't," I whisper.

"Don't what?"

"Don't make me think there's a chance of this ending well for us if there isn't," I say, swallowing hard. "Don't give me hope if there isn't any, because I could lose myself in you so easily, Cyrus. But I swore I wouldn't let anyone dictate my dreams like they did my grandma's or make me give them up like my mom gave up hers. Don't make me a liar. If you're just going to push me away again or tell me I'm wasting my time or ask me not to go…just don't."

"Hey." He sets Ruby down on the couch and then strides across the room toward me. This time, I don't back up. He stops right in front of me, putting me eye level with his chest. His scent clouds my mind, making me ache. He hooks a finger beneath my chin and tips my head back, forcing me to face him. "Don't give up on me yet, angel. Please."

"That's the problem," I whisper.

"What is?"

"I don't want to give up on you." Tears fill my eyes, but I don't let them fall. I don't retreat either. That's how this always goes between us. One of us gets too close, so the other retreats. We've been doing it for years, trying to resist colliding into one another. And instead, we end up spinning aimlessly and crashing on our own. Every single time. "Even after everything, I still don't want to give up on you."

"Then don't." He leans forward, moving slowly as if to give me time to pull away or tell him to stop. But I don't pull away or stop him. He brushes his lips across mine in a featherlight kiss I feel everywhere. "I'm going to fix last night, Gwen. I promise you I'm going to fix everything. Trust me?"

I don't even hesitate to nod.

His relief is palpable. Some of the tension in his face eases. He presses his lips to my forehead and lingers for a moment. "Go get ready, angel. I'll get Ruby's shit together."

"Okay," I whisper, letting him turn me back toward my bedroom. He gives me a gentle nudge to get me moving. I take two steps and then spin around and fling myself against his chest, hugging him hard.

He stumbles back a step, his arms coming up to surround me. I quickly dodge him, knowing I'll never get in the shower if he touches me again. I just…really needed to hug him. He seems to know it. He gives me a half smile, his eyes soft. And for the first time since I ran from him yesterday, a little of the ice surrounding my heart begins to melt.

 

 

"Do you want to come in with me?" he asks almost three hours later, looking at me from the driver's side of his truck. We're on base, parked in front of the administration building. The place feels a little like a ghost town. There aren't many people around at all.

We didn't say much on the drive. He turned the radio on, so I sang along. He held my hand the whole time. Every time I looked at him, he was watching me out of the corner of his eye. He seems…peaceful. Because I'm here with him?

I'm not sure, but I want that to be the reason.

I'm terrified to let myself hope that last night wasn't the end of us, but it keeps leaking out anyway. When I'm with him, the world always seems a little brighter. Even when we're arguing over something stupid or he's growling at me about my clothes or whatever he's grumpy about, I'm happier.

"Am I allowed to go in?" I ask.

"So long as you're with me." He grins. He still looks exhausted, but his eyes are clearer than they have been in a long time. "We're just running into my office for a minute. You'll be fine."

I glance down at Ruby, who is curled up on my lap, sleeping.

"She can come in too."

"I feel like we're doing something illegal."

"You think I'd let you get in trouble?" He cocks a brow at me. "I've been trying to keep you out of trouble since I met you."

I scrunch my nose up at him. "I don't get in trouble."

"Baby, you cause trouble just by existing. You're too goddamn beautiful and you never take any shit from anyone. It's a helluva combination." He shakes his head. "You know how many times I've thought about knocking some fucker out for looking at you too long at one of your shows?"

"You were at my shows? Cyrus!"

He ignores me and climbs from the truck, shutting his door behind him.

What the heck? I gape after him for a moment, and then huff a curse under my breath and pick Ruby up so I can get out too. She grumbles at me, peeling her eyes open to look at me.

"Don't blame me. It's his fault," I mutter, reaching for the door handle.

Cyrus is already there though, opening the door for me. He takes Ruby from me and sets her on the ground before holding his hand out to me. I let him help me down, keeping an eye on Ruby. She stretches and then sniffs at a tuft of grass before deciding it's a good spot to pee.

She's so funny. She hates going outside, so she always does her business quickly so she can get back to her blankets. Even when she's wearing one of her sweaters, she doesn't care much for the world outside our apartment. It just makes her cranky.

Once she's done, she jumps up on Cyrus and barks for him to pick her up.

"You shouldn't spoil her so much," I say when he immediately leans down to scoop her up. "She never wants to walk anywhere because you and Jax always carry her."

"She's fine," he says, ignoring me. Like usual. They never listen when it comes to her. I'm pretty sure they're the reason she has more clothes than I do, even though they complain about it all the time. "Come on."

I follow him to the entrance, looking all around. The building is old, but in good shape. There isn't anyone guarding it. I guess I kind of suspected that there would be. But they were very thorough at the gate. Even though Cyrus is the boss around here, they didn't just wave him through. He had to stop at the gate and show identification like everyone else. They checked mine too.

"I can't believe I've never been here before," I say as he unlocks the door and holds it open for me. I still don't know why we're here, but my curiosity is growing by the minute. Not knowing things drives me crazy. I'm not good with surprises. Jessa says that's because I'm impatient and nosy, which is true. But still.

"You're not missing much," he says, leading me down the hall. "Most of the cool shit is in different buildings. This just houses our offices. We don't spend a lot of time in them. Here." He stops outside a door. "This one is mine."

I wait impatiently for him to unlock the door to let us in, eager to see his office for myself. It's somehow exactly what I expected and nothing at all like I expected. He goes straight to his desk, but I prowl around, looking at everything. His office is almost bigger than mine and Jessa's entire apartment.

The back wall is full of bookcases overflowing with science and technical books. There are small model airplanes on some of the shelves. They're all antique fighter planes he put together. Jessa buys them for him sometimes. His desk is stacked high with paperwork, but it's all neat and tidy. There isn't a single sheet of paper sticking out of the folders.

And then I catch sight of the pictures on his desk.

"Cyrus," I whisper, staring in shock. My face stares up at me from a half dozen different frames and from his screensaver. We're together in one of them, but the rest are just of me or me and Jessa. He has one of me on stage at Colton's, a little dive bar where I perform once a month. I'm not sure, but I think it's from one of my very first performances there after I turned twenty-one.

"Cyrus, were you there?" I ask, turning to look at him only to find him watching him, his expression carefully blank. Even though he knows what I'm talking about, I point to the picture.

"Yeah, I was there, princess."

"I didn't see you."

"I know. You never do."

"I never do?" I frown, beyond confused. "What do you mean I never do? What did you mean earlier about wanting to knock people out for looking at me? Cyrus, are you…" I stop to lick my lips. "Are you saying that you attend my shows?"

He swallows hard and then nods.

"How many of them?"

"Every single one since I've been home. And most before I left."

I reach blindly for the edge of the desk, feeling a little like I'm going to pass out as my mind tries to process this revelation. Where do I even start?

"Come on," he says, holding out a hand to me. He tucks a sheaf of papers under his other arm. "If we're going to have this conversation, you need to see everything first."

See everything? As in, there's more?

Christ Almighty.

I let him lead me back out to his truck. He helps me in and then deposits Ruby on my lap. I'm not sure where we're going until we head deeper onto base. Eventually, we come to a little residential area. It's not big, only a few small houses. He pulls into the driveaway of the second one on the right and then kills the engine.

"This is where you live?" I ask, looking over the single-story home with yellow siding and large windows. It's small but well-maintained. There are bushes in the front yard but no flowers or other homey touches.

"For now."

"For now?" I frown, not sure what he means by that. He's being so cryptic today! But the way he looks at me makes my stomach flutter.

"You have to see it," he says as if that explains. It doesn't, not really. But I nod anyway.

When he hops out, I take a deep breath, trying to get my nerves under control. I feel like an entire flock of butterflies are trying to climb up my throat. Or maybe that's my heart. I'm not sure. All I know is that I'm dying to see whatever it is he has to show me.

He takes Ruby from me again and then helps me down. Instead of letting go of my hand once I'm on the ground, he links our fingers together. More butterflies climb up my throat. I feel like a powder keg on the verge of exploding.

"Your door isn't locked," I say when he just pushes it open.

"I live on base."

"You should still lock your door."

"You worried about my safety, Gwen?"

I shrug instead of answering, not sure why I'm making a big deal about it. I guess because he bitches at me and Jessa all the time about leaving doors unlocked. He's so ridiculous. We live in a gated complex with other college students, but if we leave the door open to let air in, he gets all grumpy and lectures us about safety. As if Jessa doesn't have a gun under her bed that he bought her and taught her to use. As if he and Jax haven't personally terrified every college boy who lives in the complex by growling and glaring at them.

I always thought he did it for Jessa, but I think I might have been wrong about that. All this time, he was growling over me. I just didn't let myself believe it.

He sets Ruby down in the floor as soon as we're over the threshold. She runs straight to the couch and jumps up, not even remotely interested in looking around. I am though. I stand in the middle of the living room, trying to take it all in. His house is honestly a little depressing. There's nothing wrong with it. It just feels empty. The only things in the living room are the couch, a coffee table, and a massive television. The table in the dining room is a two-seater with a single chair. There are no pictures on the walls or knickknacks. His office feels more like a home than this place.

"Come on," he says, leading me into the kitchen.

It's spotless, naturally. He's kind of a neat freak. I thought it was a military thing, but Jessa says he's always been that way. Which doesn't really surprise me. I think Cyrus was born fully-grown. He's so damn capable and controlled. Nothing much rattles him. Except maybe me.

It's probably wrong how much I like knowing that. It makes no sense to me. I hate fighting with him, yet I like knowing I'm the only one who can get to him like I do. Not even Jessa ever makes him as crazy as I always have. But I never understood why until yesterday. It's because he's wanted to drag me off to my room and make me behave as much as I've wanted him to do it over the years. I just wish he wanted it for the same reasons I do.

I'm beginning to think that maybe I was wrong last night. He's been secretly attending my shows. He has pictures of me in his office. He steals my lunch and drives me crazy just to get my attention. He wouldn't do those things if he didn't love me…right?

He opens the garage door and then hits the light switch, not speaking.

"You're moving?" I ask, staring at the moving boxes stacked neatly in the corner.

"In six months."

"Where?"

"Depends."

"On what?" I spin to face him so quickly I nearly fall over.

He catches me with an arm around my waist. And then I notice he has the same sheaf of papers under his arm that he picked up from his office. He holds them out to me.

I take them with shaking hands, trying to make sense of them.

"You're retiring from the Air Force?" I gape at him.

He nods.

"What? Why? You love what you do!"

"I love something else more," he says, hitting the switch to turn out the light before he nudges me back into the house and closes the door. He moves with purpose, as if, now that we're here, he's on a mission.

I just stare at him, my mouth completely dry. My heart beating a million miles a minute. My soul quivering like Ruby when she's not sure if she's excited or terrified. I want to ask him. The question is right there on the tip of my tongue. But it won't come out. Because if he says I'm not the thing he loves more, there won't be enough of me to put back together this time.

"Come on," he says, taking the papers out of my hands and depositing them on the counter before he tugs me out of the kitchen.

I stumble behind him down the hall.

He stops suddenly and I nearly run into him.

"Shit. Sorry," he mumbles, turning to face me. "I…" He stops talking and huffs out a breath, looking more nervous than he ever has before. "I'm hoping you aren't going to kick my ass when you see what's behind this door."

"What is it?"

"Just don't run from me, okay? I'll explain after you see it."

"Cyrus," I whisper, suddenly even more nervous. Which shouldn't be possible since I'm already on the verge of exploding into a million little pieces. "Just show me."

He takes another breath and then pushes the door open.

At first, all I see is his massive bed. I envy the fact that there's not a wrinkle in sight while mine looks like a tornado hit it. Even when I make mine, it's not this neat. And then I catch sight of the walls. My face stares back at me from every direction.

I push past him into the room, turning in a circle. There are at least thirty pictures of me hanging on the walls. Some I recognize from my Instagram. Others, I don't think I've ever seen before. They span the entirety of the last six years.

"Don't freak out," he says from behind me.

"Cyrus…" I'm not even sure what to say. A million questions tumble to the forefront of my mind all at once, wrapped and tangled around each other like box cars after a train wreck. All I manage to get out is a sound that's a cross between Ruby when she's being dramatic and a stutter.

"I put the first ones up right after you turned eighteen," he says. "Just a couple of them."

"That…that's more than a couple, Cyrus."

"I know." He swallows hard. "I swear it was only a couple until last year. Until I came home."

"Why?" I ask, my mind reeling in a thousand different directions.

"I don't know why I put up the first couple," he says and then grimaces. "That's not true. I…Jesus, princess. Don't slap me for this. You're the only fucking thing that's gotten my dick hard since I met you."

"You looked at them while you…?"

He nods, sending a heat wave rolling through me. How many times have I touched myself, thinking about him doing the same? Hoping he was thinking of me? How many times have I looked at pictures of him and got myself off? Too many to count.

I can't judge him when I've done the same exact thing.

"Maybe I should be ashamed of it, but I'm not," he says, his voice firm. The same reflects in his eyes, letting me know he's not lying. He's not embarrassed or ashamed. He doesn't feel guilty. "I waited until you were eighteen. Maybe that doesn't matter and I'm still as big a goddamn pervert as I think I am. I don't know. I'm not even sure I care. It's always been you, Gwen. Since the day I met you."

I process that and then set it aside for the moment. "And the rest?"

"I put those up last year." He paces away from me, like he needs distance between us to say whatever he has to say. "We did something over there that fucked me up."

"The airstrikes," I say.

He whips around to face me.

"When you were over there, I kept up with the news. Um, I kept up with you," I confess. "I know you guys carried out a bunch of airstrikes on ISIL strongholds that killed several civilians."

"Sixty-four," he whispers, his voice a painful rasp. "We killed sixty-four innocent people."

"It wasn't your fault, Cyrus." I cross the room to him, wrapping my arms around him and willing him to believe that as strongly as I do. From what I read, no one was supposed to be in the city but insurgents. No one knew they had hostages. I can't even imagine how he and the other pilots felt when they learned the truth. I wish he never had to know or carry that weight. But if he has to carry it, I will too, for as long as it weighs on him.

"I know," he says, holding me to him with his arms around me. "But it still fucked me up. I had nightmares for months. I'd wake up screaming, seeing their faces, hearing them ask me why. After seeing that shit in my sleep, I needed to wake up to your face. You were the only thing that brought me back, reminded me that I had to keep fighting to get through it. Every time I wanted to give up, I added a picture to remind me what I was fighting for."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, trying not to cry. I knew he was in bad shape, but I didn't know it was that bad. I didn't know he was afraid he wasn't going to make it through it. Had I known, I would have been there. Every damn night, no matter how hard he tried to push me away.

"I couldn't ask you to go through that with me. It wasn't fair to you."

"Cyrus," I whisper.

"The whole time I was over there, I just wanted to get back to you. And then I came back fucked up." His sigh ruffles pieces of my hair. "I pushed you away because I didn't want to be the albatross around your neck, dragging you down with me. I signed up for war, but you didn't. It wasn't fair to burden you with my shit."

"You could never be a burden to me, Cyrus," I whisper. "Never."

"You think I don't believe you're good enough for me, but it's always been the opposite, Gwen. You were barely sixteen the first time you got my dick hard. I've been obsessed with you for years, even knowing it was wrong. I've…done things that were wrong."

"What did you do?"

"I followed you." He rests his forehead against mine, swallowing hard. His breath washes across my face when he exhales a nervous breath. "I sat outside your job to make sure you got home. I even sat outside the apartment a few times, just trying to catch a glimpse of you. I've taken pictures and videos of you. Dozens of them."

"You went to my shows."

"I didn't think you'd want me there, so I hid in the back. Until the night that motherfucker put his hands on you," he growls. "I didn't hide that night. Even from the back, I could feel your fear. I broke his nose and his wrist." His eyes sear into me. "I wanted to kill him."

"That was you?" I gasp, pulling back. I remember that night. Some jerk slapped my ass. It scared me and pissed me off at the same time. Before I could even react, this man…Cyrus…grabbed him by the throat and dragged him outside. For weeks, I felt guilty for thinking of someone else as my hero. I should have known it was him. He's always had a way of appearing when I need him most.

He nods. "That'll never happen again, princess. No one will ever touch you again."

"What if…what if I want someone to touch me?"

Pain and possession flash in his eyes like lightning. "I've killed for this country, Gwen. Don't think for a second that I won't do it for you. You're mine. I won't share you with anyone."

"What if you're the one I want to touch me?"

"Don't tease me, baby," he groans.

"Are you mine too, Cyrus?" I ask, unable to stop the question. He thinks he's obsessed, but he's not the only one. He thinks he's possessive and jealous, but so I am. I hate the thought of him even looking at someone else the way he sometimes does at me. From the day I met him, I've thought of him as mine.

"I've always been yours," he rasps. "I always will be. Even if…" he breaks off, pain flashing in his eyes again. "Even if you decide to wash your hands of me. I wouldn't blame you, not after everything I've put you through. I pushed you away and then acted like a fucking asshole because you weren't mine. I've made you doubt yourself and doubt me. God, Gwen. I've fucked up with you so many times. Hearing you tell me last night how much I hurt you killed me."

"I thought you didn't believe in me." This time, I swallow hard, tamping down on the urge to keep my truth to myself. His is so much more painful than mine, but he shared it with me. I can do the same. "My mom…my mom falls in and out of love all the time. She's always chasing after some new man. She had a full ride to Harvard, but she dropped out to chase a man across the country. And then she met my dad and had me." He loved her like crazy, but it wasn't enough to make her love herself. Neither was having me.

"I wasn't even a year old before she left my dad to chase a football player," I say. "Before my dad won full custody of me, she'd drop me off with him and my grandma for the night and then disappear, sometimes for weeks. The last time, she was gone for three months. I never understood how she could give me up so easily for someone else."

"Your mom didn't deserve you, angel."

"I know," I whisper. "But it messed me up anyway. I've always been so afraid that I'd turn out like her, that I'd give up everything to chase a man. I never wanted anything more than I wanted music until I met you. Even thinking you didn't believe in me, I would have given it up. That scared the hell out of me."

"I should have told you the truth years ago," he says. "If I had, you'd know that I've always believed in you."

"I don't understand. What truth?"

"The day we met, I heard you singing, and you blew me away. You sounded like an angel. I knew right then and there that you were going to be a big deal."

"You told me I was wasting my time," I remind him.

"I meant it was a waste of time because no one could ever possibly compete with you. But you and Jessa misunderstood. And I knew if I told you that was what I meant, you'd keep looking at me like you were. I knew I'd pursue you." Heat blazes in his eyes. "It wouldn't have mattered that you were sixteen. I would have taken you. I would have ruined you."

"You could never ruin me."

"I could have. I would have."

"Cyrus," I whisper, not sure what to say because maybe he's right. I don't know. But I'm suddenly glad he didn't tell me. He was so much older than I was. Being with him might have ruined me, but it definitely would have ruined him. I would never want that.

"No one has ever believed in you more than I do, Gwen. I'm leaving the Air Force because I believe in you. Because I'd never ask you to give up your dreams for me. In six months, I'm done. I want to be with you while you're going through auditions and trying to find your place. I don't want you meeting with assholes who will try to change you or tell you that you aren't good enough without me there to tell them how fucking wrong they are. That's what I was trying to say last night, but you were half naked, looking like a goddess. I can't think around you." He shakes his head, rubbing his nose against mine. "You have me so tied up in knots, I can't ever think straight around you."

"Me either," I admit.

"I wasn't asking you to give up your dreams." He slides his hands up, cupping my face in his palms. His stare is so intense, as if he's willing to me to see the truth in them. "I was asking you to delay your move for three more months. Maybe I'm an asshole for asking. No. I know I'm an asshole for asking, but I'm terrified you'll get to Nashville and see how much better you can do than me."

"No, I can't," I whisper, shaking my head.

"Yeah, you can. I'm a bossy asshole who hates to be wrong and never says the right thing, but you? God, you're incredible. You're beautiful, and talented, and so fucking sweet. You love fiercely and you never give up. You're the strongest, most stubborn, brilliant woman I've ever met. Even at sixteen, you were fearless. You looked at me and I saw a queen. Nothing gets you down for long. You're a little mama bear to everyone and will do anything for the people you love. Everyone is going to see the same thing I see when I look at you."

"No one will ever see me the way you do, Cyrus," I say, shaking my head. For so long, I've doubted his feelings for me. I don't anymore. He doesn't even have to say the words outright for me to know how he feels. I see it burning in his eyes, stamped into every line of his face. I see it hanging on every wall in his bedroom. For so long, I saw everything through such a narrow, confused lens. But right now, it all looks different. God, it's so different. "You love me."

"Always have," he whispers, his gaze locked on mine. It strips me bare, tumbling the last of my walls. I feel him everywhere then, like he's part of me, seared so deeply into my soul nothing will ever get him out again. He's supposed to be there. I think…I think I'm supposed to be right here too.

The Greeks believed that humans once had two heads and shared a body and a heart. The gods grew to fear their power, so Zeus separated them with a lightning bolt, creating soulmates, the one person on the planet who was always meant to be part of you. If you're lucky, you find that person. If you aren't, you spend your whole life searching, feeling incomplete. When I look at Cyrus, I know I found my other half. I knew it the first time I set eyes on him.

The whole world would have said he was wrong for loving me then. They still might. But we're two parts of the same whole. We were created to complete each other. How could finding one another ever be anything less than perfectly right?

"I love you, Gwen London," he whispers.

I sob his name, unable to hold it back. "I love you too. I've always loved you, Cyrus."

"It feels like I've been waiting a lifetime to hear you say that."

"M-me too."

"Never again," he vows. The same reflects in his eyes, those blue depths burning with promise. "I'll say it every fucking minute, princess. Until you get tired of hearing it."

"I won't," I warn him. "Never."

He presses his lips to mine in a sweet kiss and then dries my eyes. "I went to see Cami Reynolds after I left you last night."

"You…what?" I blink at him.

"Watching you fall apart killed me. I've caused so much damage because I couldn't get my head out of my ass. I knew I had to fix it and make you see that I will never be the person who crushes your dreams again. I'm so sorry I did it the first time, angel. I'm so damn sorry your grandma never got to see you audition because of what I said."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It was," he says, his voice leaving no room for argument. "And I need to fix it. I owe you that. So I went to see Cami last night. I played her a video of you performing. You have an audition in the morning."

The whole room spins around me, or maybe I'm the one spinning. I'm not sure. "An audition?"

"Mmhmm. With Riley Jamison."

"Cyrus," I whisper, shocked. "She hasn't taken on a new client in ages."

"They weren't you."

"You really believe in me that much," I say.

It's not really a question, more a revelation, but he nods anyway. And then he starts looking nervous again, which makes me nervous. "If you decide you want to do this without me, I won't stop you. I won't ask you to wait for me. I've tried controlling this thing between us, and hurt you a thousand times, in a thousand different ways. I'm not doing that anymore, Gwen. Whatever you want, I'll give you. I don't know how to live without you, but if that's what you want…if that's what you need, I'll find a way. So long as you're happy, I'll find a way."

"I don't want to do it without you," I say, shaking my head. Even now, the thought alone hurts enough to send more tears slipping down my cheeks. He's been at the center of my life for so long, standing like the sun just out of reach. He eclipsed everything. He still does.

Last night, I thought I didn't have a choice, that I had to let him go to keep the promise I made my grandma and myself. It's not what I wanted. It still isn't. If there's a version of the future where we're together, that's the best possible version of it. It's the only version I want to live.

There will never be anyone else for me. I accepted that a long time ago. I misjudged so much last night, too afraid to be vulnerable for him again. Too afraid that I had to let go of something. But he's standing here now, stripped raw, exposing all his scars and vulnerabilities, fighting for me.

I'm not my mom. And Cyrus isn't the men she dates. He's my soulmate, my one.

"I choose you, Cyrus," I say, and then I exhale a breath. "I'll move in with you. I'll marry you. That's what I want, more than Nashville or a record deal or anything else. I want you."

"Gwen, princess," he breathes, almost as if he doesn't dare believe it.

"I choose you," I say again. "And if I never reach my dreams, I won't miss them, Cyrus. So long as I have you, I'll always have everything I need."

"You will get your dream," he growls, pulling me close. His eyes blaze with intent. "If Cami and Riley can't get you in a recording studio, I'll find someone who can, I promise you that. I'll find a way to give you whatever you need, I promise you that too, angel. I won't allow you to give up a single thing to be with me."

"There's only one thing I need right now," I say, rising on my tiptoes to feather kisses all along his jaw. I loop my arms around his neck, securing him to me.

"Anything," he vows.

"I need you to make me yours," I whisper in his ear. "I need you to make love to me."