(Tom's POV)
I couldn't breathe. My chest was tight, my heart racing. The kiss we had just shared still lingered on my lips, a lingering taste of warmth and longing that I couldn't shake. Lilac's words echoed in my mind, each one a dagger to my conscience, each one slowly unraveling everything I thought I knew about myself.
"I love you."
She had said it with such raw honesty, with such desperate conviction, that I couldn't ignore it. It wasn't some fleeting crush or a passing infatuation—this was deep. This was real for her.
I wanted to say something, to push her away, to tell her that this was wrong, that I couldn't be the man she wanted. But as her hands moved slowly across my chest, her warmth radiating through me, my words stuck in my throat.
How could I deny her?
How could I push away someone who had loved me for so long? Who had waited for me, preserved herself for me?
But then… the guilt. The weight of what we were about to do. She was my best friend's daughter. She had been in my life since she was a child, and I had always seen her as a little girl—innocent, naïve, someone who should have a future with someone her own age, someone who could give her everything I couldn't.
And yet, here I was, on the brink of crossing a line I could never uncross.
I pulled back slightly, my hands gripping her arms, trying to create some distance between us. Her eyes were locked onto mine, filled with desire, but there was something more there—something that terrified me. Hope.
"Tom," she whispered, her voice trembling, "please… don't push me away."
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady myself. But nothing seemed to work. Her touch was driving me mad. Her scent, her warmth, the way her lips had felt against mine—it all made me feel alive again. Something I hadn't felt since the death of my wife.
But this… this was different.
I had been alone for so long, mourning a love I would never get back. And in Lilac, I had found something—someone—who made me feel whole again. But the guilt ate at me. She deserved better than this. She deserved someone who could give her the world, who could be the man she needed. I wasn't that man.
"I shouldn't be doing this," I muttered, my voice strained as I pulled away slightly, unable to look at her. "Lilac, you're too young. You don't understand the consequences of what we're about to do."
Her fingers found my jaw, gently turning my face back to her. Her eyes were unwavering, filled with determination.
"I understand more than you think," she said softly, her voice low and full of emotion. "I've waited for you, Tom. I've always known it was you. Don't you see? I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm a woman, and I want to be with you. You're the only man I've ever wanted."
Her words cut through me like a knife. How could I ignore her? How could I deny the truth she was offering me?
But still, the guilt was there. It clawed at me, reminding me of the betrayal, the line I was about to cross.
"You deserve more than me," I whispered hoarsely, my voice thick with regret. "You deserve someone who can love you properly, without all this… mess. Someone who isn't broken."
Lilac's gaze softened, and she leaned forward, brushing her lips lightly against mine. "But I don't want anyone else, Tom. I never have. I've never wanted anyone but you."
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the wave of emotions that flooded through me. The guilt. The passion. The need. All tangled together in a mess I couldn't untangle.
"I can't be your savior," I said quietly. "I can't be the man you want me to be."
Her hands cupped my face, her fingers tracing the lines of my jaw as if memorizing the feel of me. "You don't have to be perfect, Tom. I don't need a perfect man. I just need you."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
I had spent so long trying to bury the grief, trying to outrun the loneliness, and here she was—so open, so full of love for me. And I couldn't deny the love I felt for her, even if it was tangled with guilt and confusion.
But what about my moral compass? What about the boundaries I had built around myself? Was I really about to throw it all away for this?
I pulled her closer, my hands trembling as they slid around her waist, pulling her into the warmth of my chest. I kissed her, deep and slow, as if trying to pour all of my conflicted feelings into that one kiss. She responded eagerly, her hands sliding down to the waistband of my pants, coaxing me forward, making it impossible to think clearly.
But my mind kept screaming at me.
This wasn't right.
And yet, I couldn't stop myself.
I pulled away slightly, needing space to think, but Lilac wouldn't let me go. She looked up at me with those eyes—so full of need and hope—and all I could think about was how much I wanted to be the man she needed, even if I didn't believe I could be.
"I can't stop, Tom," she whispered again, her voice thick with emotion. "I need you."
I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me.
And in that moment, I realized something that made the guilt even heavier.
I wasn't the only one in this mess. She was, too.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "I don't want to hurt you, Lilac," I whispered, my voice full of regret. "I don't want to be the one who destroys you."
Her hand gently cupped my cheek, her thumb tracing the outline of my jaw. "You won't hurt me, Tom. You'll never hurt me."
And that was the moment I knew I couldn't fight this anymore.
I couldn't deny what we had.
I couldn't deny the passion that had burned between us for so long.
I couldn't deny her love, or mine.
But God help me, I knew this was going to change everything.
(Lilac's POV)
Tom's hesitation was still there, but I could see it slipping away. I could feel his resolve weakening. His hands trembled as they gripped my waist, and I knew—he wanted this as much as I did.
But there was still something holding him back. His guilt. His fear. His doubts.
I could understand that, even though it hurt. I could see how torn he was, how much he wanted to push me away, to protect me. But I wasn't a child anymore. I was a woman, and I knew what I wanted. And what I wanted was him.
I leaned into him again, kissing him softly, gently, hoping to break through the walls he had built around himself. "Please, Tom," I whispered against his lips, "I'm not going anywhere. I love you. I've always loved you."
I felt his breath catch, and I knew, then, that I had broken through.
He didn't pull away. He didn't resist.
And for the first time, I knew that whatever came next, we were in this together.