Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I shifted the lettuce around on the plate. “I just… I don’t know. Everything feels the same, when it should feel different.”
“Nothing has changed. Nothing changed for me, even when we were apart.” He started to eat again. “And in case you were wondering, I wasn’t with anyone during those weeks.” He looked at his food as he scooped bites into his mouth.
I’d never thought about it. “Me neither.”
He closed his eyes for a second, releasing a deep sigh that he couldn’t control. Then he continued to devour his meal.
I’d never wondered if he was with anyone or not. I was just so numb from everything that I didn’t think about him at all. But that haze had been broken when I saw him on the ground, practically dead.
“I don’t blame you for anything.” His voice turned quiet, no longer playful like it’d been when his brother was there.
“How can you not?” I whispered. “I set you up. Damien told me what he was going to do. It’s not like I didn’t know.”
He dropped his fork and stared at me, his eyes turning serious. “Do you want me to be angry with you?”
“No. I just…feel terrible.”
“The way I see it, you felt betrayed by what I did—and I did do it. It wasn’t a victimless crime. I deserved everything that happened to me in that cell—”
“Don’t say that ever again.”
He closed his mouth, turning quiet.
“You didn’t deserve that. Absolutely not.” Tears welled in my eyes at the memory.
“It’s in the past—”
“You’re still all cut up and scarred…it’s not in the past.” Fresh tears fell down my cheeks.
He watched me for a long time, his eyes mirroring my emotion. “Well, I forgive you.”
I looked at down at the table, wiping away my tears.
“Now…do you forgive me?”
I sniffled before I looked up, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.
“Do you forgive me for what I did?” he whispered. “Because if you do, I think we can move on from this…together.”
I knew what he did to my father was wrong. What he did to Damien and Anna was wrong. But now that I loved him, and the love was undeniable, I couldn’t stay angry about it. I couldn’t live in the past. I wanted this man…regardless. “Yes. I forgive you.”
I lay beside him in bed, keeping space between us because he was still too injured to touch. The bruises on his face had started to fade to his normal color, the reduced swelling making his face less puffy. The discoloration around his eyes was the quickest to disappear. But he was still in bad shape.
My phone started to vibrate on the nightstand as someone called me.
I knew who it was without checking.
I reached behind me, grabbed the phone, and pressed the buttons on the side to turn it on silent without even looking. Then I dropped it back onto the wooden nightstand, the loud thump filling the bedroom.
He continued to watch me, his head slightly tilted my way. “Baby, you can’t ignore him forever.”
“Ignore who?” I asked, surprised he’d figured it out so easily.
“You know who.”
I dropped my gaze.
“It’s been a few weeks. Enough time for both of you to cool off.”
“How do you know it’s him?” I asked, changing the subject.
He held my gaze without blinking. “Just a hunch.”
I pulled the sheet higher over my shoulder.
“Come on, you aren’t scared of anything. And I promise you, he’s nothing to be scared of.”
I knew I had to talk to him, to have the conversation that could go in any direction. Maybe he would apologize. Or maybe he might tell me how disappointed he was. In any case, Heath was right. I had to face him…eventually.
I grabbed the phone and opened his message box.
He’d texted me a lot over the last few days.
You can’t ignore me forever.
Cat, come on.
Pick up the goddamn phone.
I finally texted back. I’ll come by your place tomorrow night. We can talk then.
Damien didn’t text back, but I knew he got the message.
I didn’t stop to say hello to my father and went straight to Damien’s bedroom.
I knocked on the door, but there was no response.
I opened the door and saw him sitting there, dressed in jeans and a shirt because he’d been expecting me. He looked out the window, his arms on the armrests, a slight scowl on his face like he dreaded this conversation as much as I did.
Anna was there, and when she saw me step inside, she excused herself. “I’m going to play chess with your father.” She moved past me, placing her hand on my shoulder as she went, as if she were wishing me luck.
Oh, I needed all the luck I could get.
I moved to the table and lowered myself into the chair.
He still didn’t look at me, as if it was too painful to see my face.