“You want the truth, Conor?” He steps forward, his eyes sharp as steel. “I love you.” Another step. “I always have.” He grabs my hips and yanks me to him. “I will never stop loving you. Doesn’t get more honest than that.” My hands fall to his biceps, my insides twisted into a hundred knots of deceit. I can’t trust him. “It’s too late.” “No.” He clutches the back of my head. “Tomorrow is too late.”
