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The Fake Mate(109)

Author:Lana Ferguson

“Mackenzie,” he tries again. “I need you to know beforehand that this is not an easy decision for me. I never wanted to hurt you.”

My hand slips from his, too surprised to even adequately process what he’s said. Why is he still looking at me like that?

“Noah, what are you . . .”

But I can see it now. His expression. I can really see it. It’s the same one that a father wears when they tell a little girl that they can’t stay with her anymore. It’s the same one you never really forget.

“Mackenzie,” Noah says carefully, his voice tight. “I think we should end our arrangement.”

24

Noah

I knew that everything about this was going to hurt, but seeing the realization on Mackenzie’s face—the dissipation of her smile, the surprise in her eyes that quickly turns to pain, the way her mouth parts like she can’t comprehend what I’m saying—experiencing it all proves enough to actually gut me. I can almost feel the knife twisting in my belly.

And I can’t let it show.

She pulls her hands from the table to tuck them in her lap, looking away from me as her brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“I just don’t think it’s going to work,” I say flatly, everything inside me screaming to reach out and touch her, to take away the hurt forming in her eyes.

She laughs, but it’s humorless. “You don’t think it’s going to work.”

“I heard from Albuquerque, and they want me to start right away.”

“Do they,” she says hollowly, and I feel the knife twist deeper.

“It’s just that it’s going to be a lot more responsibility than I originally thought. Between the move and the workload . . . I don’t know if it’s the right time to try juggling a long-distance relationship.”

She laughs again, a brittle sound that makes my chest hurt, finally looking at me with teary eyes. “You don’t know if it’s the right time.”

“Listen, it’s not anything that you did, it’s—”

“Please don’t give me the ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ speech,” she says angrily. “Don’t you dare, Noah.”

I feel my resolve wavering, the pain and anger in her face breaking me down. She’s trying to hide it from me, the way my words are cutting her, but I can see it in the rigid set of her shoulders, the way her jaw juts forward and her teeth worry at her lower lip like she’s trying to keep them from quivering. It’s something I’ve never seen before on Mackenzie, sadness, and I feel every ounce of it like it’s my own, like it’s a wound that I’m actively poking at. I know that after this it’s one that might never heal.

I have to remind myself that I’m saving her from a lot more hurt than this, knowing that she would never forgive me if I ruined her career. I can still hear Dennis’s smug voice ringing in my ears.

I guess you’re just going to have to be very convincing then. Aren’t you.

I take a deep, agonizing breath.

“Mackenzie . . . This was always supposed to be temporary.”

“Oh, fuck you,” she hisses. “You and I both know we moved past temporary out at that lodge. You asked me on a fucking date. Why did you ask me on a fucking date, Noah? And all the other shit lately? What was all of that, huh?”

I’m struck for a moment, seeing the exact second that I’m losing her playing out all over her face. I don’t think I could have ever anticipated it would hurt this much. Or maybe I did, and I just didn’t want to acknowledge it. I think that before this moment I had somehow convinced myself that it would be something that we could both move on from; it feels like such a short time has passed since she first approached me in that tiny break room at the hospital, so how could something cultivated over such a brief amount of time have a lasting impact?

Love sure as hell isn’t easy.

“I’m sorry,” I say. It’s all I can say, really, because it’s the strongest thing I’m feeling. “I honestly am, Mackenzie. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Yeah, well,” she huffs. “Good. Because I’m not.” Even through her tearstained eyes, I can see the way she tries to lock down her emotions. The way she’s desperately trying not to let it show how much this is wounding her. It only makes me want to soothe her more. “Like you said. This was always supposed to be temporary.”

She looks right into my eyes then, and part of me is begging her to see the truth there, begging her to fight me on this. Surely she has to know how I truly feel. I know I didn’t imagine these last few weeks and all the little things that have been growing between us. I didn’t imagine the way this arrangement has started to shift into anything but casual. I want her to see through the lie. I want her to fight me. Just a little.