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We’re out in the open now and people are leaving for work and...and what if we run into someone? What if they get suspicious seeing me and Dacre like this? I can already imagine all the rumors and I know they wouldn’t be the nice ones.
High society doesn’t care about feelings. They care about what’s appropriate.
And Dacre and I aren’t.
Glancing at Dacre to see if he’s upset with me, I draw a sigh of relief when it seems like he’s already dropped it. He’s looking straight ahead, his eyes relaxed but there’s some tension around his jawline.
Once we’re about to cross the street, Dacre reaches for my hand but I keep it tightly pressed to my side and this time I don’t get away with it as easily.
“What’s wrong?” Dacre rasps, raising his brows. “Why can’t you just hold my hand?”
“I want to,” I breathe. “I want nothing more than to hold your hand but...,” I bite my lip, “what will people say?”
A shadow crosses Dacre’s face. “People?” His gaze darkens. “You’re letting people get in the way of our relationship?”
“No,” I breathe. “We can be together behind closed doors and eventually we’ll go p...public but now’s not the time.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Dacre rasps, “Greta...I’ve claimed you. Which means I have a claim on you which means I want everyone to know.”
My pulse picks up in my temples and I try to be reasonable. “I understand. But you’ll have to compromise.”
“I don’t compromise,” Dacre snaps and I flare out with my hands. Pulling my fingers through my hair, I cross the street when the stoplight turns green and something rebellious snaps in me because he just doesn’t get it.
Dacre’s never been under the microscope the way I have. He doesn’t know what it’s like to have people judge you for wearing the wrong shade of foundation or because you don’t speak a third language.
It’s easy for him. He doesn’t care about what anyone thinks.
“Please let’s just do this my way...,” I plead, trailing off when Dacre turns white in the face.
“Watch out!”
My breath punches out of me when Dacre lunges, shoving me out of the way and I scream when the car slams into him, lifting him in the air and he falls on the hood before rolling down on the ground. He lays there lifeless and I sway before crying,
“Dacre!” Tears stream down my eyes as I go to my knees beside him and take his face into my hands. “Please...I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...”
His lids flutter, his gaze struggling to focus. “Don’t cry, princess.”
But of course I’m crying. He could’ve died because I refused to hold his hand! Because I cared about what people would think! None of that matters anymore. The only thing that matters is Dacre and I squeeze his hand and I’m relieved when I hear sirens in the distance.
“I won’t ever leave you,” I whimper. “I’ll always love you and I don’t care who knows. I want to walk by your side, Dacre. Forever. I’ll do anything for you. Just please don’t die on me.”
A pale smile curves his mouth and he coughs. I dry off the blood running down from his temple with my cloak and struggle not to sob. “Don’t move I plead,” when he fidgets but he ignores me and pulls off one of his skull rings and threads it on my ring finger.
“Marry me,” he groans as he’s getting paler and paler. “Fuck just say yes, or I may not survive this.”
Gasping for air, I panic and slant my lips over his. “Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, yes...I’ll marry you.”
Cupping my neck he kisses me back and I don’t care about the people watching. We don’t have anything to hide. Our love is perfect. Beautiful. And nothing’s allowed to come in between us.
And nothing ever will.
EPILOGUE
Dacre-TWO YEARS LATER
Tea rooms. What the fuck am I even doing in a place like this? Oh yeah...Greta. She insisted I come and spend time with her and some couple she wants to introduce. She claims we don’t do enough couple activities.
I happen to disagree. We do plenty. Just that they’re usually constricted to the four walls of our soundproofed bedroom.
