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25: Ronan
Bourbon isn’t helping.
I took Selene home after the skydiving incident yesterday and made an excuse about not feeling well. I went home and tried to bury myself in the bottom of a bottle, but I woke up this morning both hungover and still panicked. My attempts at distraction did me no good, and I couldn’t bring myself to send Selene a text asking her how she’s doing, let alone see her.
I lean my head back against the couch cushion and close my eyes. The weight of her trust sits heavily on my chest. It’s not just that she trusted me enough to jump out of an airplane with me. Maybe if this had happened earlier, before I realized how vulnerable I’d become with her, it wouldn’t be hitting me so hard. She’s trusted me with everything. Her career. Her body. Her heart. Her life. Her entire fucking life. There’s nothing she has that I don’t permeate, now that I’ve broken in.
Because break in is exactly what I did. She put up a wall between us when I first came back to Seattle. Brick by brick, I pulled it down, never taking no for an answer. Fuck, she was dating some other guy, and I still pursued her. I got her to agree to stay single. I maneuvered to have lunches and dinners with her as often as I could, pushing against the boundaries she tried to set between us. I wormed my way in, sure that she would be glad when I did. When I conquered her.
When I won.
And once she let me in, I took everything. I’d like to think I earned her trust, and remained worthy of it, but looking back, I don’t know. I tempted her, teased her, convinced her to do things she might not otherwise have done. I tied her up and had my fucking way with her, and I loved every second of it. But she let me. She gave me that power. She handed it to me willingly.
Just like she followed me onto that airplane.
The responsibility is too much. I hold her life in my hands and if I fuck this up, in any one of a million ways, I could destroy her. I could ruin her career. Maybe I already have. Did her coworkers lose all respect for her because they know I fucked her on top of my desk? I could break her heart. I’ve never been a man who could commit. I’ve always lived for the chase, the thrill of a challenge. What do I do now that the pursuit is over? Now that I have her, what is left? I don’t know how to be that guy. I’ve never done it before.
I could have killed her.
She’s made me afraid, something I haven’t felt since I was a stupid kid. I used to feed off the fear, but since it left me, I’ve thrived. I’ve taken risks no one else will take, and many of them have paid off. They’ve paid off big, and I can’t afford to be weak now.
I swallow the last of the bourbon, my head swimming. I can’t be responsible for someone else’s career, their life, their happiness. It’s too damn much. I know how easily it can be taken. It can all be gone in a second. One fucking second and everything changes.
One second, and everything is gone.
