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“Remember that night we met? At the hotel?”
“Of course,” I whisper. “How could I forget?”
“I want to go back to that.”
I don’t want to frown at him and put him off, so I touch his hand instead. “What do you mean?”
He sighs deeply. “Before I put two and two together, before I knew who you were… I wanted you. I wantedyou, Clara, and not just in my bed.”
All air disappears from my lungs. I can only swallow and blink at him, hoping he’ll continue so I don’t start wondering if I’m dreaming. Or hallucinating.
“You were so beautiful, then and now. But somehow, I could tell you have this beauty on the inside, and a strength and a fire in this perfect combination that I didn’t know I was looking for. I wanted you by my side, as my woman and my lover, and I just…”
I really, really don’t want to start crying. But dammit, it’s not fair. It’s not fair to find all this out, to hear this directly from him, when it’s too late.
When I’m beyond redemption.
Demyen tucks my fingers inside his fist. “I fucked up, Clara. I fucked up so bad. I shouldn’t have, but I did—and I treated you like shit. I want you, Ineedyou like I need air, and I still treated you like shit.”
Only when his voice breaks do I realize he’s crying.
“I am so fucking sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Clara. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, so I can’t ask for that. I just want to know if we still have a chance. Any chance at all to start over.”
Start…what?What did he just say?
“I…” My mouth struggles to form words. And then out of nowhere, some switch flicks in my brain and I can’t shut the hell up. “I don’t know, Dem. I really don’t. I want to say we can, I really do. I want to tell you that it hasn’t been all bad, that we actually have some pretty wonderful memories.”
And that I’m pregnant with your child.
“But that’s what abuse is. It gives promises and takes them away. It’s what Martin did all the time to me—hell, it’s what my father used to do.” I draw in a deep, shaky breath and look out at the desert flowers so I can keep myself focused. “I’ve heard such pretty lies. I’ve been promised so many beautiful things, perfect futures, and every single time without fail, I’ve been a goddamned idiot for believing in them.”
Fuck.Here come the tears.
But sometimes, you just have to let them come.
They blur my vision when I look back down at Demyen. My voice chokes around the growing lump in my throat. “You promised me the world. You promised to keep me safe. You said I was yours and that you’d never let anyone touch me. And thenyou sold me.I know you didn’t hold the gavel. You didn’t call out the prices or even lead me to the auction block. But you organized the whole event. Youhostedit, Demyen!”
My voice wobbles when I start to remember the faces of women who will never be seen again. Because ofhim.Whathedid. Whathechose.
Fuck. I’m shaking.
I ball my fists at my sides and try to focus on breathing. In, out. In…Not going to lose my shit out here in public… Out…Or take it out on him while he’s apologizing.
Demyen looks grim. But he hasn’t moved, hasn’t pulled away or even looked away. He’s still kneeling there, touching my legs, accepting every word that flies out of my mouth for better or for worse.
“I know,” he finally says after what feels like the world’s longest pause. “I know, and I don’t have the right words to tell you how deeply I will regret that for the rest of my days.”
He’s already told me so. But it does help to hear it again. And again, and again, until I actually start believing it.
Better yet—until I actually startseeingit.
“You want to make it up to me?”
His eyes spark with hope.
I push myself up off the bench, effectively pushing him away as well. “Start by treating me like a human being. Cut this alpha male bullshit and treat me like a fuckingequal. That’s what I want. That’s what I need.”
I don’t wait for a response. I don’t know if I want one right now. All I want to do is stomp down the path until the urge to scream isn’t as strong anymore.
