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Eric stared at her. He wasn’t just looking at her, but watching her, seeing right through to her soul. It was like he’d stripped her bare where he stood, and she could do nothing but wait for him to be finished.
“Eric?”
“I don’t know what to say to make you understand, okay? I’ve been thinking about you a lot. What I did was fucked up, and I’m sorry.”
“You keep saying the same that, and I still don’t understand.”
“Because I wanted you,” he said, raising his voice. “I wanted you back then, and I want you now. I know you’ve had Micah and Dean. I don’t even know if you can forgive me for the shit I pulled back then. I … fuck me, Daphne, I fucking craved you, okay. You were all I ever wanted.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“But … you hated me.”
Eric gritted his teeth, gripping the axe tightly. “No, I didn’t. I had to hate you. It made my life easier.” He put up another piece of wood and she watched him split it in two. “My old man… I didn’t have kind, loving parents like yours. To everyone else watching, they were perfect. I get that. Inside, when no one watched, they were a pair of judgmental assholes. My dad was a real piece of work.”
He stood tall and turned toward her. “He saw me watching you. It was before high school.” He ran a hand down his face. “I’d always been careful about showing how I felt but with you, I struggled. Your smile, the way you seemed to just be filled with this energy, this light. I wanted to be part of it. I’d have given anything to have that smile directed at me.” He took a step back. “My dad, he must have seen the way I looked at you. I … never thought it, but he didn’t like you. He didn’t like your…”
“Weight?”
“Curves.”
She giggled, running a hand down her hip. “I do have a lot of them.”
“Even back then. You were bigger than the other girls and well, my dad, no son of his was going to fall for a fatty.” Eric shook his head. “I hated that son of a bitch, but I got a beating for looking at you. Of course, he hit me where bruises wouldn’t show. No one would question a bruised-up knee, or even an ankle.” He rubbed his knuckles. “To punish me, he made me punch a brick wall until my fists bled. All in the name of making it look like I was just a pain-in-the-ass kid.”
Tears fell from her eyes. The picture he painted wasn’t kind.
“I’m not lying to you, Daphne, and it’s certainly not an excuse. I pretended to hate you because it made life a lot easier for me. Neither of you would ever know that I was and always will be in love with you.”
Chapter Eight
Eric wasn’t supposed to say shit like that. No one knew his true feelings. Not any of the guys. No one. He hadn’t even meant to say anything, now and look what he’d done. Running a hand down his face, he wished he could take the words back. Daphne didn’t need to know how weak he was. What he’d done to try to win over his father. He should have told him to go to hell, which was what he’d done a few years ago when his father tried to claim the credit for all of his and the guys’ hard work. The moment he’d seen the press and the crap he was saying, he’d been so fucking livid.
He’d wanted to murder the bastard.
Instead, he’d paid him off, severed all ties, and promised to ruin him and tell the world what a disgusting lowlife he was.
In the last twelve years, there had been women. A lot of them. Nothing had ever been serious. They all knew the score. Sex and a few chance dinners, that was all. There were times over the past twelve years he thought about contacting Daphne. Each time he’d lifted his phone to call his PI, he’d stopped himself. He’d been worried, in case she had a life, a fun one. One that didn’t include him.
If there had been a husband and children, he didn’t know if he could stand it. So, he’d never called. Never looked her up. He’d gone about his day without a single care in the world, always wondering.
Now as he looked at her, mouth open, he knew he’d surprised her.
“I guess not all families are normal.”
“You love me?” she asked.
He nodded. “I have since the first moment I saw you.” He chuckled. “Which goes right back to kindergarten. You used to wear your hair in little pigtails, and you were always in jeans.”
“I was a tomboy back then.” She smiled. “I drove my mom crazy because all she ever wanted me to do was wear one dress for her. I would, but I hated it.”
