The flash of hurt in her eyes was bad enough. But the fact that she tried to hide it made William want to take it all back.

Only it wasn’t like he had much of a choice.

So he contended himself with cursing inwardly as he escorted her outside, every step increasing the laden weight in his stomach.

Lily stayed perfectly quiet all the way to the pub down the street, and he was feeling too rotten to say anything without a pint of ale in his hands. Cowardly, maybe, but this wasn’t a decision he’d come to—or carried out—lightly. He knew that no matter how he put it, he couldn’t avoid harming the one person he actually loved. Even if it was to protect her from something far worse than a temporary broken heart.

“So, William, does your grand opening come with a follow-up?” she inquired once she shrugged off her coat and tossed it unceremoniously on the bench. She sat down, but made room for him beside her.

William could have stabbed himself in the eye.

Here he was, breaking it off between them, and she still offered him his favorite spot. What the fuck was he doing?

He sighed. The bloody right thing, that’s what.

“Well?” Lily asked again once he slid onto the bench.

Fucking hell. What was he supposed to say?

That the sudden onslaught of calls led him to suspect Trisha had been stalking Lily’s place? Probably Lily herself, too? That he always seemed to get texts from her regarding some triviality or another that really had nothing to do with him, but all of them were timed precisely to interrupt whenever he and Lily were together?

No, he didn’t want to bring that kind of ugly into Lily’s life. He’d already done enough shit by involving himself with her as it was.

His fingers curled into fists, heart crashing against his ribs.

He should have known things were starting to go pear-shaped when Trisha’s manifestations in the vicinity of his flat became a regular occurrence. But he’d hoped it was otherwise this time. Just this one fucking time when his life had finally started to feel right.

“I know I haven’t been very straightforward with you about my former relationship,” he began, the words bitter on his tongue. “Patricia and I were never married, but, Christ, it feels like I’m in the middle of a divorce.”

Lily cocked her head to the side, but before she could say anything, a waiter strode up to the table. They both ordered a pint, then remained silent until the man returned with their drinks, the only interaction the occasional brush of their knees.

Shit, this was hard. He swallowed a mouthful of the cold brew, then looked at Lily again.

“It isn’t a pretty story,” he said quietly. “Trish and I, we… We were flying, I think. She worked at some big-ass event I participated in, and we got talking. I was fresh out of a relationship that went sour, and her own was on a steep decline. That right there should have been a red flag, but neither of us really cared.”

And he had been paying the price for his mistake for five bloody years. Those three weeks before Trisha had left her boyfriend for good and moved in with him were the only good ones they had truly shared.

They had given him hope, made it easy to turn a blind eye to the array of problems that had already started to manifest. But the real shit hit in Paris that first summer.

He’d proposed to her with a gorgeous antique ring he found at the flea market by the Seine.

She said no.

Actually, she hadn’t merely turned him down but crapped all over his choice of jewelry. Trisha wasn’t about to accept a pre-owned ring, although he suspected even a freshly cut diamond straight from Tiffany’s wouldn’t have satisfied her that day. Or any other, for that matter.

Things had only gotten more strained between them once they returned home to LA, then deteriorated further during their brief stay in New York when it became clear to him the two of them couldn’t keep on being an item. Aside from the time spent together, there simply wasn’t anything there.

“I wanted to break it off between us,” he admitted hesitantly as memories surged, tying a knot in his stomach.

He’d wanted out. That was all. Out of the relationship. Out of the hellhole his life had turned into.

Out of the skin that didn’t feel at all like his.

“So what went wrong?”

Despite the touch of darkness to her voice—darkness William knew he’d put there—Lily’s question carried no resentment. If anything, it was gentle. Sincere.

Like the woman he’d fallen in love with.

He sighed. “We kept trying instead.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, but he couldn’t bring himself to say that it had been Trisha who didn’t give a fuck about what he wanted. Hell, he had a feeling the woman hadn’t listened to a single thing he’d confided in her.

The only time he’d spotted any kind of short-term change was once he truly started to pull away. Not just with words, but with his entire presence.

It was then that the tears came, the whole convincing him that they should work harder to keep whatever it was between them alive.

The first time Trisha had sworn to put in an effort, William had believed her. He worked his balls off not to cock-up, strove to make her happy. But nothing seemed to make a difference. All they did was fall into the same vicious circle again.

He shrugged himself from the memory and gave Lily an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry, pet. I love you. I hope you know that.”

She nodded. “I know.”

There was so much in that small gesture. Lily hadn’t merely accepted his affection, but his silent admission—and decision—that this was as far as divulging his personal matters would go.

It was the most he’d shared with anyone about his past. A part of him wanted to tell her everything, but the words wouldn’t come.

Couldn’t.

“I love you, too, William.” Her hand brushed his thigh. “Which is precisely why you’re leaving me, isn’t it?”

William never thought such a soft voice could cut so deeply. Or reveal so much.

He should have known that if there was anyone who could catch the clusterfuck of problems fate had vomited on his shoes, it was her. Even with him being tight-lipped about what was probably the most shameful part of his existence, it was clear Lily had been aware of all those small nuances in his moods he’d attempted to conceal, of the reason behind them—as well as all the consequences he couldn’t bring himself to speak out loud.

He’d seen that his secrecy hurt her—he wasn’t that big a tosser to pretend otherwise—but despite being unable to give her what she needed, Lily had never pressed. Never demanded more.

She was simply there for him, her silent support a lifeline that kept him from the darkness.

Even now.

And all of it made him feel even lousier about what he had to do.

“Lily, I’m not good for you,” he confessed. The words sounded laughable compared to all he wanted to say, but there was hardly anything more he had to offer. “But I want to be. Maybe in a month, three, a year… Christ, I don’t know how long it will take, but I want to clear the bullshit from my life before I welcome you in it. If you’ll still want me.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?” A sad half smile fell upon her lips. “Welcoming me into your life, I mean.”

It was. And he’d beaten himself over it to the point where it nearly drove him mad.

Meeting her. Getting to know the person behind those fuckable lips and intelligent eyes… It detached him from reality, sent him soaring.

Only to slap him in the face once he came back down.

He wanted her. Not because of that bloody garter belt or that exquisite expression that appeared on her face whenever he made her come.

He wanted Lily because in her, William found something he’d always longed for.

A lifelong companion.

A friend who knew him in and out, despite the secrets.

Lily had let him beyond her walls. Now he needed to kick himself in the arse until he could do the same.

He reached over and took her hand in his. “I’m sorry, Lily. More than I can say.”

“God, I wish I could be angry with you,” she whispered, eyes lined with silver. “But I’m not. I’ve seen how you get William. I fucking hate it, but if you feel this is what’s right for you…”

He kissed her before he could think about how deep down the rabbit hole he’d fallen.