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Instead, she blinked as things shifted over her face, solidified in her mind, and were once again accepted with no questions asked.
Who the hell was this girl? How could she be so kind and generous with her boundaries of right and wrong? How could I ever repay her?
Squeezing my fingers, she murmured, “This makes so much sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“The guilt you carry. The shame I don’t understand. You’ve never accepted the crime, so you pay for it constantly.”
I didn’t admit she was right on every level or tell her that in another few years, I would’ve paid off the man I robbed in full. I’d turned his winnings into double the amount. Soon, my debt would be clear, and I could finally admit I used him as an interest-free loan to get ahead, provide for my family—even if they didn’t want to be provided for—and right the sins of my past.
I inhaled deeply, ready to deliver my final confession. Weren’t revealing truths you’d harboured for years supposed to leave you light-hearted?
Somehow, I felt heavier, more tired than I’d ever been.
Bringing her hand to my lips, I whispered against her knuckles, “The man who saved you is a fraud doing his goddamn best to make up for all the shit he’s done. But…it’s never enough.”
Tears sparkled in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut in, needing to finish, needing to end this. “Even my name is a lie.”
She gasped.
“You are Tasmin Blythe. That is your true name even if you don’t want it. I understand that more than you know. Ever since I met you, I’ve done my utmost to steal your letters, rob your past, and learn everything about you. Yet, I’m a fucking hypocrite.”
“El—”
“No. Listen, Pim. I get that you’re not ready to use your old name. Just like I’ll probably never use mine. I’m no longer that boy. And good fucking riddance.”
Cupping her cheek, I couldn’t tear my gaze from her lips. I wanted so badly to kiss her but after this confession—this completely unplanned and shockingly stupid confession—I had no willpower anymore.
All it would take was for her to lean forward and press her mouth to mine.
And it would be all over.
The dishes would be on the floor, Pim would be on the table, and we’d have an entirely different dinner than the one we’d come here for.
My voice tore with a growl as I fought myself yet again. “I demand to know everything about you. Every scrap of thought and fragment of memory I want to hoard. I need to make it mine. But to balance such a demand, I should be willing to share myself. But I’m not ready. I might never be. I have so much I wish I could erase. So many things I never want you to know. And because of that, whatever we have will forever be unequal. I’ll always demand more from you than I can give, and that is yet another debt I’m struggling to bear.”
I needed to leave before I told her anymore incriminating failures.
Letting her go, I stood and kissed the top of her head, lingering over the soft scent of vanilla and sea salt. “I need to be alone, Pimlico. Don’t come find me.”
I left before I could change my mind.
Before I could drag her into my lap, beg her for forgiveness, and bury myself inside her.
I left before I could create any new mistakes when I was trying so fucking hard to rectify my old ones.
Chapter Twenty-Two
______________________________
Pimlico
FOR FORTY-EIGHT HOURS, I did my best to give Elder some space.
I’d found him in his office the next day, but after a stilted, distracted conversation about the weather, I’d left him to drown himself in work.
The rest of the day, I’d relaxed on my balcony and watched the horizon blur into one magical line where tide met sky and sizzled with sunshine.
The next afternoon, I headed up on deck only to find Elder at the bow with binoculars pressed to his eyes, his back rigid, and the faintest outline of another vessel on the horizon.
When I tiptoed beside him and stared at the faraway vessel, my skin prickled from the crackle of energy he gave off. His whole persona was tense and brittle, ready to shatter at any moment. Only, when he shattered, I had an awful feeling he’d take out entire cities with his rage and regret rather than just implode.
I stood beside him for twenty minutes before I got up the nerve to ask if he knew who manned the boat behind us.
He ripped the binoculars away and gave me a look so black and bleak, I struggled to catch a breath.
A moment later, he returned to looking through the magnifying glass only to mumble something about an urgent meeting with his captain then vanish to the bridge.
