Page 67 of Sin of Love
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“In the timeI’ve known you, Deirdre, it’s never once occurred to me you were a coward.”
The words slice; I welcome the pain as fuel for my anger. “You haven’t known me very long. We were together, what, a few months?”
He flinches, coughs out a laugh. “You know, earlier tonight I was so freaking happy you ate and that afterward, you snapped at me to stop coddling you. I thought, She’s coming back to me. But you weren’t, were you? That was, what, an automatic reflex?”
“What did you expect?” My voice climbs another octave. “Did you think I’d sleep it off, Gideon? Get a few miles away from that hell and be able to put it behind me, and everything would go back to the way it was?”
“Of course not!”
I throw my hands up. “This is stupid. I don’t want to argue with you. There’s no point—we’re on different planets. Just go. Leave me alone. When Nate gets here, I want you to leave me alone for good.”
Gideon stares at me. “You don’t mean that.”
“Fuck yes, I do. There’s no way through this, past this, whatever. We didn’t have a strong enough foundation. We barely knew each other.”
The words sound good—forceful and true—but I can’t meet his stare, and he still sees through me.
“Fucking liar,” he growls. “Tell me you’re pushing me away because you’re afraid to need me. Tell me you’re just scared because we’re on the run, and you’re still recovering from the drugs—”
The leash on my darkness snaps.
“Do you know why I left in the first place?” I snarl. “To keep you and Nate safe from this exact scenario. It was the deal I made with Julep. By coming after me, you fucked us all. Now Nate will have to look over his shoulder for the rest of his life, and you and I can never go home. Do you understand what I’m saying? This is all your fault!”
His eyes turn to flint. “Did that feel good? Hurling that steaming pile of shit at me? Trying to hurt me? Did it make you feel powerful?”
“Damn you! Listen to me. I can’t be your girlfriend, or your fucking muse or masterpiece or whatever the hell you want me to be. I want you to go! Leave me alone!”
He sways like my words landed physical blows. “You get a free pass tonight, mon bijou,” he grinds out, “but get it all out now, because I will not be the subject of your misdirected loathing. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving.”
“Yes, you are. Give me your phone.”
“No.”
With an intelligible cry, I grab the closest thing to me—the battered copy of Dune—and chuck it at Gideon’s head. The hefty paperback slams into the wall a few feet away.
He glances at the fallen book. “Horrible aim.”
Shaking with exhaustion and near tears, I sit on the edge of the bed. “I can’t do this.” My words are wisps of smoke, as insubstantial as I am.
“There’s nothing to do.”
From his voice, I know he hasn’t moved toward me. I’m grateful. Also resentful. I love him, and hate him for loving me, and none of it makes any sense.
“What if I can never give you what you want?” I turn, finding his face—wary, frustrated, beloved. “That person you were with wasn’t real. Or if she was, she isn’t anymore. And who I am now… I’ve played so many versions of myself for so long, I don’t know who I am.”
Gideon’s eyes soften. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself right out of the gate. How about we take things one step at a time. Worry about getting healthy, then we can tackle your existential crisis.”
I shake my head, laughing weakly, then clamping teeth onto my lower lip before it can tremble. My muscles hurt. My head hurts. My fucking skin hurts. My mind? So dirty I can’t see an inch past the surface.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” I dig fingertips into my aching temples. “Everything inside me is… wrong. Every time I close my eyes, I see too much. Everything on a loop. It doesn’t stop. I can’t live like this.”
Gideon steps slowly into the room. When I don’t immediately throw a fit, he lowers onto the opposite side of the bed. Respecting my space. Tense. Wary. But still here.
I wish I deserved him.
“There’s nothing to do, mon bijou. Nowhere to go. No rules, demands, or deadlines. It’s just you and me. We’ll figure it out together. And don’t forget, I have some experience with PTSD. I’m not going to run just because you need to lose your shit before you find it.”
