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I don’t want that for myself. Not ever.
And one day, I’ll need to forgive him. I’ll have to forgive him, for myself. But this morning, the pain is starting to gnaw at me, and I can still feel the humiliation, the arrow precision sting of his rejection—the unexpected balm to my pierced heart sleeping in the bedroom above me.
The last twenty-four hours with Tobias have been surreal, and I’m way too terrified to trust a single memory. I run a finger over my lips thinking of the way he kissed me, held me, like I was precious, like my every thought mattered. Palming my face, I try to push those thoughts away, and I can’t help but recall our conversation.
“Dream a thousand dreams.”
In the last year, I’ve learned a different way to live, and I don’t think I’ve ever embraced it the way I can now.
With my epiphany yesterday, I know my future consists of big moves and big decisions. I want the experience of it all. O
therwise, what’s the point?
A peace washes over me as I remember the future I’d mapped for myself in that boardroom. A decision to live, in the now, even knowing what I know. Risk and reward. No regrets. I’ve decided on my part to play.
I’m strolling along the hedges admiring the walls of honeysuckle draping them when I sense him. I look up to find him standing in the corner of the courtyard, staring at me.
“Hi.”
He stands silent. His undershirt wrinkled, the material clinging to him like a second skin stretching over his chest, outlining his powerful frame when he stretches. Black boxers accentuate his insanely cut, muscular thighs. He’s completely disheveled. A far cry from the stylish terrorist I’ve come to expect darkening my door. And as messy as he looks, he’s more agonizing to gaze upon. We’d stolen a moment last night. A moment to be selfish, to give in to what we both wanted, and it wasn’t purely physical. It was a long drink for two thirsty people. And we’d savored every drop, but we’re skirting disaster now. Still, I can feel it, the gravity, the ache, the need building for him, and he’s only feet away.
I run my hands along more of the delicate blooms. “It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?”
More silence, and it’s unbearable. My heart gallops as the air around me stills. Tension coiling, I can feel his gaze on me, my neck pebbling with the weight of it. I can’t bring myself to look him in the eyes. Because if I do, he’ll know.
“Hard to believe such a bad guy owns such an extraordinary place.” I can hear the sadness in my voice. I was honest with Tobias that night he questioned me. In my time here, I’ve experienced a slow snap. From the time my dad confessed he couldn’t love me to the time we spent yesterday in his boardroom, it’s felt like one drawn-out and agonizing blow. Though it’s been hard to admit it, I came here with a hope that’s now obliterated. My father and I are beyond repair.
Roman’s rejection has made me a very sad and lonely little girl, and I’d been acting like one, dragging my battered heart around and begging someone, anyone, to tell me it is worth something.
“You were right, you know,” I say, running my fingers over the blossoming wall of honeysuckle again. “I’ve been a sad, lonely little girl for a long time.”
I smile, though my eyes are glistening. “I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t, didn’t want, to love me. I understand that’s just a blood tie now, and I’m a responsibility. Nothing more. But I won’t apologize for growing up thinking I deserved his love or for growing up period, and the choices I’ve made doing it. In believing in it. Because…how can love be a mistake?” A warm tear runs down my face as I finally look up at him. “Even if it’s not enough, if it’s more trouble than it’s worth, if it does me more harm than good, even if everyone I give myself to denies me, I refuse to believe it’s a mistake.”
He stalks toward me, his eyes unwavering as I swallow, bracing myself for impact. “Sometimes…s-sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever grow up enough to know the difference between what I romanticize and what’s real.”
He reaches me, and I keep my eyes averted as another fast tear forms and falls.
“How do you do it, Tobias? How do you keep your heart out of it?”
He lifts my hand to cover his chest, and I lift my eyes to his. It’s in his gaze I see the same vulnerability and fear that shone in them the night he realized he’d damned us both.
“Please don’t do this to me,” I beg, knowing if this is another game, another mindfuck, I will not survive it.
He bends, so we’re eye level as his heart pounds against my palm.
“There’s something you need to know,” he swallows, his frame rattling as he covers my hand on his chest, the beat beneath quickening, smashing against my palm as if trying to break free.
“Your heart is not your weakness, Cecelia. It’s mine.”
Slowly, so slowly, he bends and presses his full lips to mine. And with this one act, the rest of my self-preservation ceases to exist.
Because of him, because of his kiss. A kiss just as raw, just as honest as it was last night, but far more meaningful than any other we’ve shared. I grip his wrists when he palms my face, tilting my head before he dives deeper. The burn starts behind my eyes as my innermost fear is realized, and I dive headfirst, living fully in the seconds and minutes that replace everything I thought I knew about love.
He explores my mouth with gentle licks, his tongue coaxing mine, drawing out a whimper.
My heart pounds in distinct beats as I rip myself away.
“Please—” He cuts off my plea with another searing kiss and another, and then another until my fears quiet.
