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He sat on the corner of my bed, facing me, a smile across his perfect lips. “Don’t worry—it’s the sugar-free stuff you like. Go on, have some. Nothing like heat and sweet to make a hard night go by faster.”
I blinked slowly, struggling to catch up with what was happening. After a moment, I took a sip of the drink, trying to go along with this. It was what I’d wanted, right?
However, I could barely taste it, something bitter on my tongue that had nothing to do with the hot cocoa.
“Do you think they’re okay?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m sure they are. They’re smart and tough, after all. I thought you’d be worried, so I figured maybe a drink and a show if you can’t relax. I can even run you a bath.”
“A bath?” It was like the very meaning of words had gone right out of my head, like I couldn’t understand them anymore.
“Yeah. A nice hot bath can ease the mind. If you wanted, I could get in there with you.” He lifted one of his dark eyebrows, his red bangs falling into his face. He looked like some pop idol, his gaze compelling and charming and just the right amount of mischievous.
And it made it hard for me to understand him at all. Or myself. I’d wanted him to treat me nicer, but now that he was?
It didn’t feel good at all.
Instead of facing why, I got off the bed in a hop. “You know what this needs? A little cinnamon. Hold on.”
A noise from behind me as I escaped said he’d called out for me, but I had no idea what he’d said. I didn’t want to hear it.
My heart pounded, but not in excitement. Instead, it was like I kept eating something rotten, something I hated but couldn’t stop putting into my mouth.
This was the exact man he’d shown to Rachel, the same cunning sweetness, the same sugary words, the same care and comfort that I’d wanted so badly. So why was it that it felt so bitter when I experienced it?
I went to the kitchen and set my cup on the counter, struggling to slow my breathing and settle my stomach.
“Are you okay?” His voice made me twist in a rush, and standing at the entry to the kitchen was Char—or rather the fake him.
That’s when it really hit me.
What Hayden had said, what Char had told me before. He’d played this part even with his wife, showing her only the person he thought she wanted. He’d turned into the version he thought others could accept, hiding the real him away because he didn’t think anyone ever wanted to see it.
I remembered how he said no one would adopt him, how they always sent him back because he wasn’t the ideal child.
I did that, too.I’d proven him right with my careless words, had made him feel like he needed to hide the real him.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He smiled, the edges of it perfect even if I knew it was a mask. “You don’t need to be sorry about anything.”
I shook my head, my eyes burning. The way he looked at me, the way I’d wanted him to for so long, it wasn’t what I’d hoped for. Instead of making me feel cherished, it felt like a big shove away from him, like he’d used it as an electrical fence to keep me from getting near the real man.
“Don’t do this. I was wrong, okay?”
His smile dimmed just the smallest amount. “But you were hurt by the way I was before. I might not be the best man, but I don’t want to cause you pain.”
Which really drove home what my words had done. I wanted to explain to him how I felt, but the words wouldn’t come. I really wasn’t sure what else to say, how to explain it.
It brought me back to the things I’d somehow forgotten in the face of my own jealousy. The half-smirk he gave me, the one that I saw that few others ever did. The subtle way he did things for me without ever actually bringing them up, without saying a thing or making a show of it. His words weren’t sweet, perhaps, but they were honest. The things he said might be sharp, but they’d never been used viciously, never to hurt me.
And instead of recognizing those things, instead of seeing him for what he was, I’d ignored that all and only asked him to pretend to be someone else.
I didn’t knowhowto fix this, but the sight of that smiling face of his only broke my heart all the more. I couldn’t face it anymore, couldn’t bear to see it, so I turned my back on him.
A heartbeat later, a heavy, warm weight pressed against my back, trapping me between the counter and it. Hot breath teased my ear. “You don’t like who I really am but you don’t want the mask, either? What the fuck is it you want from me?”
“I’m sorry,” I repeated.
