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“I know you are, but I need to know it won’t happen again, because I promise you, I am as good as gone if it does.”
“Andreas,” I start, pulling away from him fully so I can stand. “There are some things I can’t tell you every detail of.”
“Why not?” he questions as he moves, sitting up from the couch just enough to lean forward, arms to knees, focus fixated on me. His entire attention is on me now. Nothing will change that until we’re either done here or we find the common ground.
“Have you told me every little detail about yourself?”
I ask a bit too bitterly, more like I’m accusing him of something rather than wondering.
“Whoa, this isn’t about me!”
“Have you told me every little detail about yourself?” I repeat, ignoring his defensive tone. “You don’t have to answer me, Andreas. I know the answer. I don’t even expect you to tell me everything because I get it.”
And that is the crux of us.
Deep in my structure, I know he harbours wounds that are too deep to heal, much like I do. I felt them when our worlds collided, and I allowed him the right to keep what he needed to himself.
“What you witnessed today plays into such a bigger game, and I need to know you’re here for me. I know it’s a big ask… commitment to someone like me.” I swallow convulsively, standing firm. “This isn’t going to be pretty, Andreas, and it’s going to be far from easy. I need to know the trust we hold is enough.”
The ticking of the clock is the only noise between us, the torture of each second beating against me as Andreas becomes withdrawn and thoughtful. He rubs at his stubbled jaw, his knuckles tense until his palms slam into his knees and he stands up to pace.
“Andreas-”
“Tell me one thing,” he interjects, stopping me before I can say anything else. “That’s it. I just need to know one thing.”
“What is it?”
My tone holds, even though I feel the way my heart is starting to race.
“Are you still in love with Beckett Knight?”
“No.”
“That answer was too quick for my liking, Talia.” He’s moving now, anger building with each pace. “I want you to take your time when I ask you again. Be truthful. Are you in love with Beckett Knight?”
I steady myself for the reaping that question creates. My heart still flutters at the mere sound of his name, but the moment I visualize him, I remember the carnage loving him caused. Every handsome feature of his still makes me weak-kneed, and that tells me exactly the truth I need.
“Yes,” I admit in a short gasp, and I roll my eyes. “And I really fucking hate myself for admitting that.”
“And let me guess, you hate me for making you admit it too?”
Seven years’ worth of heartache has built upon my fragile psyche, and I allowed it. I was unable to calm the fractures that grew throughout me, and rather than deal, I buried. Once upon a time, I was the girl everyone in London wanted to be, and within one night, I was cast out and thrust so far into the shadows I didn’t know how it had happened.
All I knew was the man I loved was the culprit, and I hated him for ever feeding me falsehoods. I hated myself more for swallowing them whole.
“I hate you for knowing,” I mutter disdainfully. “Hate myself for being so obvious.”
I drop my gaze, but rather than push Andreas away, it seems to give him permission enough to advance my way, capturing my face again to force me to look up at him.
“Our pasts never stay our pasts, Tally. I know how big a part he was and how young you were, but you had to know coming back was going to be painful. You had to know it was going to force you to open your eyes.”
“I do love him,” I admit, fixing my gaze onto his hazel eyes. “But I hate him too. So much.”
“Good.” His fingers slacken against my cheek, his hold turning tender. “I know there is so much more to this, but if what I know about your father and Beckett is true, you’re going to need all the hate you have.”
Andreas is running on half-truths and half stories.
I know for certain if he knew everything, he’d never look at me the same again, and I’m selfish enough to know I don’t want to poison him against me. Not yet, anyway.
