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I reached over and squeezed her hand. “I believe all women war with the same choice. The choice of a brave face and burying what happened—all because we believe our strength comes from saying it didn’t affect us—or the choice to let it affect us. To say we are not okay. To cry. To rage. To break things and ourselves. These days, society is more welcoming of pain. But back then, we were taught our tears only give the bastard more power. By thinking about it, talking about it, or letting the trauma flow through us, we were weak. We weren’t moving on. We were letting that moment define us when it was that moment we had to accept rather than suppress.”
Sitting back, I held her eyes and put all my honesty on the table. “Aslan would’ve killed for me. He probably did kill for me. Every time he caught my eyes during dinner, with my parents none the wiser, I felt him rummaging around in my soul to make sure I was okay. Each time he touched me, I felt him tearing out the truth that I wasn’t as okay as I said.
“It made me feel endlessly guilty. I had him. I was loved by him. I had nothing to fear. Nothing to run from. He’d dealt with Ethan. And I’d promised him the night of our wedding that I’d moved on. Aslan had replaced Ethan with himself. The bruises between my legs were thanks to Aslan’s possession. His protection. His devotion. Not some bastard’s abuse. In the weeks that followed, nothing changed outwardly. Life spilled forward, exams were completed, school ended, and through it all, day by day, I was forced to realise I wasn’t as strong as I thought.
“I didn’t want to think about it, so I didn’t. I didn’t want to relive what’d happened on my ex-boyfriend’s bed, so I pretended it never did. But...night by night, my mind didn’t give me a choice. The nightmares began slowly, sporadically. But once the cracks began in my repression, those nightmares spilled into day terrors. I jumped whenever someone touched me unaware. I stopped going out with friends. I stopped enjoying physical contact with my mother and father. I even flinched a few times when Aslan caught me by surprise to kiss me.
“Oh no...” Margot breathed, knowing exactly where this was going. “That would’ve killed him.”
“It did more than just kill him.” I looked at Dylan who listened quietly, making a few notes here and there.
“What happened?” Margot asked, her eyes tight and worried.
“I tried to work through it on my own...with disastrous results. While doing my best to prove how strong I was, I cut Aslan’s power off at the knees. He believed his entire purpose in life was to protect me, so when I refused to let him protect me from myself, I made him helpless. His every instinct howled to go to war on my behalf, and when I refused to give him anything to fight, he floundered. He grew more and more frustrated. More and more paralyzed by what I didn’t say than what I did.”
“I can commiserate. There’s nothing worse than feeling helpless when all you want to do is help.” Dylan chewed on the end of his pen. “You would’ve been driving him insane. Let me guess...he exploded?”
“Rather spectacularly.” I sighed. “And in the worst possible way.”
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this so soon after hearing about what Ethan did to you,” Margot whispered.
“But this isn’t the worst thing, is it?” Dylan held my stare. “There’s more coming. Worse coming?”
I nodded sadly. “Oh, yes. This was just the beginning of our fall. A fall that left us in literal pieces. And I do mean...literally.”
Chapter Fifty
*
Aslan
*
(Moon in Georgian: Mtvare)
THE FIRST WEEK AFTER WHAT’D HAPPENED ON Low Isles and at Zara’s house, Neri almost had me convinced she was okay. We returned to our routine of sneaking around, but instead of dry-humping against my door, I’d shove aside her knickers and sink as deep as I could possibly get.
I’d clamp a hand over her mouth.
I’d ride her hard.
We wasted no time chasing our release, knowing what a dangerous game we played.
I wanted to tell Jack and Anna.
I racked my brains on how best to tell them every night.
This wasn’t just about sex. It was for life. We were forever and ever, in all ways, not just this. Even if we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.
Sleeping together on that beach had turned us into animals.
Thank God we were both equally as sensitive because our fucking was fast, furious, and almost always ended with us gagging each other with our tongues. Choking on our groans, grunting through endless jerks and clenches, coming together after just a few minutes, snatching precious moments when we wouldn’t be missed.
