Page 47 of Savage Prince


Font Size:

Aiden

Something heavy sits in my chest as we leave the shop, making my shoulders tense and my lungs tight.

I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to feel anymore.

Rose glances at me as we walk. I can’t tell if she’s glaring or if she's trying to gauge my anger.

But it’s not anger I’m feeling anymore.

There was real pain in Rose’s eyes when she made the comment about her virginity. It was a deep hurt too—one that I could tell she’s carried for a while. It hurt me to see that in her, see the wound she’s nursed for years.

I still remember how incredible she felt that night, how soft and sweet she was beneath me.

Fucking perfect.

Addictive.

I also remember taking the bedsheet and hanging it in the cafeteria with the message I scrawled on it in red paint. My stomach clenches just thinking about it. I hated it when I did it, but I thought I had to. I thought it was the best way.

It hurt to hurt Rose. Every time I thought about how I’d done the worst thing to the best person in my life, I wanted to stab myself. That would be less painful than what I had done, what she’d felt.

After that day, I cut off all contact with her, but I fought with myself daily, the urge to reach out to her nearly overwhelming.

Then my father died.

It became easier after that to do what I knew I should. It was easier to pretend that she deserved what I did to her in high school, that the hate I feigned for her was real. I convinced myself itwasreal, allowing my hatred of her father to bleed over into her. Allowing myself to hate her entire family with unrestrained rage.

She became a symbol of all the pain I experienced when my father died.

Now? Now, I don’t know what the hell I want.

A part of me wants to protect Rose, has always wanted that. But another part of me, a newer, harsher part, wants to hurt her. I want her to suffer the same pain I did when I lost both of my parents.

The thoughts I have are fucked up.

I want to save Rose from everything, but thateverythingincludes me. It includes my own need to see her hurt for what her family has done to mine.

Fuck. Things will never be right between us.

We make it back to my car, and I try to stop my mind from churning as we get in. I almost told her everything in the shop. When she looked up at me, hurt and defiant, I almost told her the truth, the real reason why I did what I did in high school.

But it’s easier if she just hates me.

It’s easier to stay away from her, easier to not get attached, if she hates me. I need to remember that this marriage is just about business.

I can do business with someone I hate. I’ve done it with Antonio for years.

I can do it with Rose.

She probably wouldn’t even forgive me. Even if she knew the reason, how could she ever see past the hurt I caused her? I knew it would break her heart, but I did it anyway. I thought there was no other way.

My phone rings before I can start the car. Connor’s name flashes on the screen, and I reluctantly answer, trying to clear my mind and my voice of any lingering emotions.

“Connor. What is it?”

“Hey, Aiden. Listen, there’s a charity gala this weekend,” he says, jumping in without pause. “We should be there.”

“If we need someone to go, Lachlan should be there.”