Her answers did nothing to discourage him from pressing on. If anything, they filled him with anger on top of grief. He scoffed and shook his head. He loved her—if that was all it took to earn his heart, he would have her in his arms right now.  "And how would you know if I loved you or not? You've never asked." Of course he regretted not being open with her earlier about how deeply his feelings went; it may have saved them both heartache in the long-term. Lach had always believed that keeping his feelings to himself would spare him the heartache of parting ways, but in doing so he'd only managed to break his own heart. But he couldn't act like he was the only one at fault. Maybe he hadn't said anything before, but neither had she—and yet she'd claimed three days earlier that she'd had feelings for a while.

"And the timing..." He let out a bitter laugh. It had to be that, didn't it? Her other suitor had been more straightforward, then; his love must have been easier to read, easier to know. Lach wasn't that sort of person, but that didn't mean he felt any less intensely. "Of course the timing isn't right. You didn't give me any time." The tears flowed freely now, but all he could do was shake his head in disbelief.

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