Page 132 of Grace

“She’ll be fine.”

The silence stretches on, and Cyrus’s shattered glance twists a knife in my heart. I cup his face in my hands.

“It wasn’t all a lie, Cyrus. I really believed I could become a better person. That my feelings could change with time. I kept telling myself I didn’t love him. That I couldn’t love him after everything that had happened—that I should hate him… But I can’t. Chase was gentle more often than he was cruel. I might never forgive him for what happened, but I can live with it. And I know… I know I’m horrible, but I can’t keep running. I can’t destroy any more lives. I messed up yours, too—and I’m so sorry.”

My heart beats frantically as a unique collision of emotions—anger, sadness, pity—makes my body tremble and my voice shake.

Cyrus pulls me to himself and wraps me in a loving embrace, his warmth spreading into me.

“It’s not only your fault.”

I look at him with teary eyes. His thumb runs along my face, wiping away a stray tear.

“What do you mean?”

“We both made big mistakes. I don’t think we were ever straight with one another. You wanted to keep your secret—the fact that you loved another man. And I wanted to keep everything I knew about him and his brother from you. I was selfish, Grace… I wanted to have you, because… Fuck it, I’ll say it.” He rakes his rough fingers through his dark hair, which falls on his shoulder in disarray. “I fell for you already in the courtroom. But you never let me in.”

He looks deep into my eyes and tucks a stray lock of my hair behind my ear.

Hearing this hurts, but I deserved it. I take my eyes off him, disappointed.

“But,” he says, hooking two fingers under my chin and turning my face back to him, “I want you to be happy. You deserve it after everything you’ve been through. You’re choosing him of your own free will, right? That beast isn’t forcing you, is he?”

“No,” I say softly, resting my head against his chest. “Thank you for accepting my decision, even if you don’t agree with it. You matter to me, Cyrus. Saying goodbye is as hard for me as it is for you. That’s why I’m crying like a little girl. I’ll miss you, because deep down I love you. I really do. Just not the way I love him. He’s like fucking oxygen—I feel like I’m suffocating without him. And I know this hurts, but I’d like it if…”

“You don’t have to make excuses, Grace. I saw you cry after sex. Things might have changed with time, but—” he pauses, “—it really fucking hurt my pride that the woman I lived with was crying after we were together, not smiling. And I won’t lie to you—you really fucking broke my heart.”

“I hope one day you can forgive me.”

The door creaks open behind me. Chase’s eyes flash with anger, but I don’t let go of Cyrus. I look back at him defiantly, because Cyrus matters to me. He was the one at my side when I needed support most.

Cyrus’s huge hands fall away. He picks up the sports bag tossed in front of the fridge.

“I’ll go back to Mom’s while you pack your things.”

I grab his arm and squeeze.

“Thank you. Thank you for everything, Cyrus.”

“Have a nice life.”

Cyrus is playing with his life when he kisses my forehead. He knows he’s on the losing side, but he doesn’t care. He works his ass off to make the world a better place, fighting men like the Baker brothers. But we don’t choose love. We don’t decide who we fall for—or when. The only choice we have is whether we stay with that person. And life passes so quickly. Why deny yourself joy? Why deny yourself happiness?

Love is selfish, and it makes people selfish. It’s something two people have to share.

Chase steps aside so Cyrus can leave his own house. I look into Chase’s dark eyes and push the window wide open. There’s nothing to be afraid of now. Some of the monsters are already dead—and the one who’s left has stolen my heart.

“You’re hungry,” he says, resting his warm palm on my flat stomach. At first it tickles, then my sensitive skin adjusts to his touch.

“I don’t think there’s any food in the fridge. No one’s been home in the past week.”

“Let’s go shopping.”

He wraps his hands around my waist and buries his face in my hair. “I’ll never get bored of your hair. It’s long, shining—”

“It smells horrible right now—,” I cut in. “—Just like my clothes. Like my skin.”

“Let’s take a shower before we head to the grocery store.”