The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 431

He looked up, his deep, round eyes completely void of the candlelight, reflecting only her image.

"I want to give this to you."

*No—I should be returning it to you.*

Josh kept that last thought to himself, burying it in his heart.

He took a deep breath, pushing the box an inch closer to her, his gaze locked unreservedly onto her face.

"Sloane, I'm in love with you."

"Be my girlfriend."

'I'm in love with you' was just a few words, but Josh had waited twenty years to say them—from the time he was eight until he was twenty-eight.

The first time he saw her, she had vaulted over a wall, dusted off her clothes, and told him, "Don't be scared, little guy. I'll protect you."

From that moment on, his eyes had never left her.

Back then, he didn't understand what love was. He only knew his heart raced when she smiled, that he would press his face against the window looking for her when she was gone, and that when she won gold medals, he felt prouder than anyone, wanting to shout to the world, *That's my girl.*

Later, as he grew up, he finally understood what those feelings were. He also understood how she looked at him—with warmth, care, and indulgence, but always as a younger sibling. Her gaze was pure, entirely devoid of anything romantic.

Before he could ever confess, she married someone else.

Her memory had stopped at her best age. She didn't remember Garrison. She didn't remember that cold marriage. She didn't remember anything that broke her heart. She stood right in front of him, her smile exactly as it used to be.

This time, he wasn't going to miss his chance again.

He was going to say it with his chest, regardless of the consequences. He loved her.

Not the affection of a childhood friend, not the admiration of a student. This was the raw love of a man for a woman.

He wanted to hold her hand, stand proudly by her side, and be the first person she saw every morning.

He wanted her, all of her, and he wanted to give her everything he had. He had waited far too long—so long that this love had rooted into his bones, his blood, and every beat of his heart. It could never be torn out.