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“I know,” he replies, moisture springing to his eyes, “I’ve been trying to tell you this. I’m terrible. I don’t respect any of the women I’m with—I just want to hurt them. I fuck it up every single fucking time. You don’t have to hate me. I hate myself enough.”
“Don’t say that. I don’t hate you. I couldneverhate you.”
“I get the slightest attention from a woman and I don’t care who I hurt to get it. I don’t care about anyone but myself. Sooner or later, I’ll cheat on you too.”
I shake my head, trying to press the ice pack to his forehead. I just want him to stop talking, stop trying to convince me that I shouldn’t care about him. It’s not working. It’s alarming how much it’s not working, because everything Beau is saying should have me pushing him out the door, out of my life, out of my heart. But I’m not. The more he deprives himself of love, the more I want to make up for it.
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes.” He grabs my hand and stares into my eyes. “Yes, I will. I will find a way to fuck this up too. It doesn’t matter how much I care about you or how this is the best relationship I’ve ever been in. The second I get a chance to sabotage it, I will.”
“Stop it,” I snap, trying to put the ice against his face again. Emotion is building behind my eyes, and I’m holding back the urge to cry, scream, kiss him, and hit him, all at the same time.
He swats my hand away as I try to tend to his wound. “Punish me.”
“What?” I ask, staring up at him in confusion.
“I don’t want this tenderness, this affection. I want you to punish me.”
I lift the ice to his head again. “That’s not how it works, Beau.”
“I don’t care. It’s the only thing that makes me feel better.”
I shake my head as I step away from him. “Idon’t want to, and what I want matters.”
“You’d deprive me of what I need?”
“This isn’t what you need,” I reply. “This is about trying to purge your sins with punishment that will not make any of it go away. This isn’t a game, Beau. If you want to feel better about what you’ve done, try apologizing.”
“Fuck this,” he mutters angrily as he spins away from me. “I thought you understood me. I thought you wanted to help me.”
I grab his arm, stopping him before he can rush out the door. “I do, but not like this.”
“Why?” he replies, turning toward me in desperation.
“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m literally asking you to,” he pleads with his hands to his chest.
“I’m not ready, and I won’t risk it.”
“I have a safe word, remember? If it’s too much, I’ll use it.”
I shake my head again. “I said no. And I meant it.”
The look of contempt on his face sends chills down my spine. I’ve never seen so much displeasure in his eyes before and to be on the receiving end of it literally makes me want to crumble.
“Then, you’re a shitty fucking Domme. This was all about fucking a young hot guy for you, wasn’t it? You’re so fucking dense, Maggie. You think trying to see the best in me will make me want to be good for you, but you’re fucking stupid to think that.”
Tears brim in my eyes as my cheeks burn. “Why are you treating me like this?”
“Me? You’re the one being a bitch. Fucking lame-ass BDSM shit. I’m so done,” he shouts. With that, he spins on his feet and rushes out the door, slamming it behind him. I stand in shock as the ice-filled towel falls to the floor, his words raking over me like a harsh wave, again and again.
A sob shakes its way out of my chest, and I collapse on the stairs by the door, letting my tears flow. They fall over my cheeks and onto the hardwood floor as I cry silently with my head against the banister.
This is what I wanted. I thought I could fix him. Just like he said, I thought I could love the good into him, but he’s too broken. He will always make it difficult to love him because that’s the only defense he has, and I’m the idiot who went and fell anyway.
Not even five minutes pass before there’s a weak tap against the front door. Somehow, I knew he’d come back. I could just tell he wouldn’t make it far before his own behavior slapped him in the face.
