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“Tell me what you came here to say.”
“Fuck.” He rubs the back of his neck and looks at me with tear stained eyes.
“I didn’t sell you.”
“You already said that.”
He shakes his head. “I. Didn’t. Sell. You.”
“What?”
He takes my hand, and I pull it away. But he only grabs it again.
“I didn’t sell you.”
“But that’s what the men said. I remember them saying your name when I was sold.”
“That’s what they wanted you to believe.”
I frown. “Why did you hide the truth all this time? Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t sell me?”
“Because it was easier if you hated me. I wanted you to hate me. It was the only way I could protect you from the truth and keep you safe. Because if I didn’t sell you, then someone else did. Someone would be looking for you and try to sell you again.”
“Who?”
“I was wrong. No one is looking for you.”
“Who. Sold. Me?”
He takes a deep breath and squeezes my hand like the next words are going to hurt.
“Your father.”
I gasp; my face goes white.
“What? Why?”
He shakes his head. “Maybe he’s crueler than either of us realized. Maybe he thought you were safer being sold rather than staying here and facing me. Maybe he thought he was toughening you up quickly rather than dealing with years of training. I don’t know the answer, but he sold you.”
I process his words. My father sold me.
It hurts beyond anything else, but it’s not Enzo’s fault. I can forgive him for the worst thing I thought he did to me.
I can forgive him.
And he can forgive me.
And we can move on as what…?
We still have to fight to become Black.
We still can’t date.
We shouldn’t be lovers.
It doesn’t change anything.
We are still enemies.
