He finds me. And a much bigger portion of my heart than I’d like to admit is relieved he did.

I'm grateful I’m back in my own place, away from my parents, surrounded by familiarity and comfort as I sit on the top step of the stairs, tears tracking my cheeks.

"Taylor, please. Open the door." Carter's voice is pure anguish, and it pulls at my heart even though I'm angry. Even though I'm ashamed.

Why can't I ever be enough for a man? Why can't it ever be about more than just looks and motives and scheming plans? Why can't it just be because he loves me?

"Baby, please. I need to talk to you. To explain." He pounds again, the door rattling under the force of his banging.

I thought he was different. I thought that because he wasn't from the same upbringing as me, because he has brothers and a sister and cared for them, kept their family together, that his values weren't like Barrington Wade's. That I meant more to him than just to secure something he wanted.

But jeez, at least with Barrington I know who I’m getting.

Carter lied to me about who he is, about why he wanted to get to know me. He knows my father? This entire time, he’s known about Daddy’s gambling. I remember the night I confided in him at Cork’s. He held my hand and offered sweet words and reassurances even though he had a role in the whole thing.

I drop my head, the tears coming harder as a wave of anger rolls through me.

I remember today, at Pierre’s, how convincingly he told the lie about Daisy and medical school. Oh my God. What else has he lied about?

Has our entire relationship been one big lie? A joke? A con?

The thought smarts a trail of shame through me that quickly morphs into indignation the longer I sit here and listen to him call through the door.

Screw this.

I deserve better. More.

Carter Kane cost me too much. My career, my livelihood. Now, he's broken my heart and made me doubt myself. Made me unsure of how I read people.

I stomp down the stairs and yank open the door.

His hand is raised as if to pound against it again, and his mouth drops open in surprise. He pushes inside quickly before I can change my mind and slam the door in his face.

"Taylor." He reaches for me, his face pained, his eyes wild.

"So, what? This was just some part of a bigger plan?" I gesture between us, practically screaming at him. The tears fall freely now, hot on my skin. Wiping my hands across my face, they slip off from the moisture.

"No!" He reaches for me again, but I step out of his grasp. "Taylor, of course not. Please, listen to me." His tone is pleading. His eyes bleed with a pain I hate seeing, even now, even after everything.

"Why would you do this to me?" I ask, my voice low as the fight swoops out of me. As the anger recedes and a sharp sadness settles in my chest, I almost fall over from the quick withdrawal of adrenaline.

"You don't understand, I didn't—"

"Of course not. Because I never understand anything, right? Because I'm just some stupid, pretty, privileged little girl with no comprehension of the real world."

His eyes swing to me, fierce and frustrated. "Don't put words in my mouth. You know you're the smartest, most generous, loving person I know."

"How could you use me like this? Why didn’t you tell me you know my father?"

"Taylor, baby," he starts, his hand closing around my wrist, tugging me toward him.

I breathe in his scent as it wraps around me like the hug I desperately want from him but don't want to want. Cedar and clean soap and something purely man. Purely Carter.

"Please," I whisper brokenly into his shoulder. "Please, don’t do this to me. Please stop hurting me."

He drops my wrist, a streak of pain blazing across his features as he sucks in a deep breath. "I never meant to hurt you, Taylor. That's the last thing… God, I… Fuck." He twists his body away from me, rage rolling off his shoulders in waves. "I knew this would happen."

"What?" How could he know this would happen? Was he planning it from the beginning? Was anything between us ever real?

"You're like alexandrite, Taylor."

"What does that even mean?"

"You're precious, rare, on your own level. Untouchable."

I roll my eyes at his lame attempt to help me understand.

He shakes his head. "You're like magic, Taylor. You change the colors around you; you've changed me. And that's what I love about you."

"What? Why are you even telling me this now?"

"You're beautiful, Taylor. But it's not because of the way you look. It's because of everything else. The way you view the world, your enthusiasm and passion for literature, and your kind heart and even sweeter soul. You're all goodness, all precious and rare and authentic in a way that can only become tarnished and jaded by being with me. Your life and my life should never even coexist, never mind co-mingle." He grasps the side of my neck, and I can't help but lean into his touch. "I love you, Taylor Clarke. And I hate that you'll never really be mine. But I promise you, a part of me, the best part, will always belong to you."

Although my hysterical outburst from earlier has subsided, his words bring a fresh swell of tears. "Carter." Panic courses through me and I feel unsteady. I’m angry with him; hurt and betrayal cling to me. But now, now that he’s pulling away, I suddenly don’t want him to go. I want him to stand here and fight for me. To fight for us. I want him to fight, and that thought brings more shame than comfort. What is wrong with me?

"I'm sorry, Taylor. Truly sorry for everything I put you through, everything I put your family through. It isn't—I never meant, please just believe me when I tell you I love you. If you only take one thing away from our time together, let it be that. Because that's the fucking truth."

His lips descend over mine in a kiss wrought with so much pain, so much confusion, so much doubt it's overwhelming. Hope swirls in my chest, heightening with the intensity of the pressure of Carter's mouth against mine. But when he breaks our connection, I read the loss I feel in his eyes and know that we're over. Done.

Hope plummets and I turn sharply, walking away from him quickly, so he doesn't have time to register that he's destroyed me. Broken my heart beyond repair.

And maybe even my spirit.