“You can. You can forgive me, Chloe. I would do anything. Ask me to crawl over broken glass on my hands and knees. I’ll do it.”
That was what people said.I’ll crawl over broken glassorI’ll walk across hot coals. I dragged my index finger along the rim of my water glass in a slow circle.
Peoplesaidthat, but they didn’tdothat. They didn’t mean it.
I tipped the glass to my lips and swallowed the last gulp of water, then hurled the empty glass to the floor. It shattered between us, the sunlight glinting off the water droplets and reflecting rainbows on the walls.
“So crawl,” I said.
Because hewouldn’t.
A heartbeat, and he dropped to his knees.
Another, and he flattened his palms on the linoleum tile.
I stared at him. No. He wouldn’t.
Oh, god.
He moved forward.
“What the hell, Steven! Don’t crawl!” I gasped. “What is wrong with you?”
He looked up at me and had the nerve to fuckingsmirk. “I’m getting mixed messages, princess. But you’re there and I’m here, and one way or another, I’m getting to you.”
“Stop!” I shrieked. I instinctively leaned toward him like I was going to take a step.
“Don’t you fucking move, Chloe,” he commanded, and I froze. “You’re barefoot.”
He crawled toward me like a lion stalking his prey. He didn’t look weak or chastened, down on his hands and knees for me. He looked strong. Determined.Relentless.
Iwas the one who was begging. “Steven, please get up.”
The way he looked at me made me grip the counter for support. Like he would crawl a mile over broken glass for me, not just across the kitchen floor. “It’s just a little blood, baby.”
He was at my feet now. I grabbed fistfuls of his henley and tugged, trying to get him to stand. I might as well have tried to move a boulder. He didn’t budge.
“Say I’m yours, Chloe.” He looked at me with his heart in his eyes.
The answer lodged itself in my throat.Yeswas terrifying, butnowas dishonest.
His mouth twisted. “I know. You still can’t forgive me. How could you? You don’t even know how to forgive yourself. You haven’t learned how to live with something terrible without punishing yourself every day. You’re too good, that’s what it is. It’s all right. Stick with me, princess. I’ll show you how to be a villain.”
My lips parted on an exhale. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.”
Yes, I do.
I shook my head. “Give me your hands,” I said.
I ripped off a handful of paper towels and ran them under the faucet. He turned his palms up for me. Shards of glass sparkled in the light. A smear of blood crossed one palm, a small red bead on the other. I tenderly wiped it all away with the damp towels.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I said, running my thumbs lightly over his palms to make sure I hadn’t left anything sharp behind.
He gave me a sardonic look. “When have I ever said no to you, Chloe?”
“You were supposed to say no to this,” I said sternly. “This was supposed to be your limit.”
