Chapter Thirty-Eight
Molly
His explanation sent a rage of emotion surging through me. At first, I found it laughably funny, then I realized how heartbreaking it all was, and then lastly came the anger. He had done all this just to get out of hurting me in the future? He had done all this because he might, possibly, maybe, perhaps, one-day screw things up between us?
Didn’t he realize that not being with him would hurt me either way? Whether it was now or ten years from now, it would always hurt, because Tristan was my soulmate. He was the person I was meant to be with and no matter how it happened or when it happened it would hurt to not be with him.
I was willing to try and move on when I had assumed he wanted nothing more to do with me. But to know that he still had feelings for me and had pushed me away for this hypothetical future scenario was mindboggling.
“Molly,” he said.
The sound of his voice saying my name was the catalyst. I walked forward and without even thinking about it, my hand whizzed through the air and made contact with the side of his face. Tristan’s face snapped back, but his body remained motionless. We both froze in place and a moment later, he looked towards me with eyes that were tortured and uncertain.
“I guess I deserved that,” he said softly.
I tried to push back the tears as I faced him. “You deserve worse.”
“I know,” he nodded. “Molly… I’m so sorry.”
I felt a tear slip free, and I tried to brush it away quickly. Tristan moved towards me as though he wanted to hold me, but I held up my hand and took a step back from him.
“No,” I said. “You don’t get to comfort me—not after you did what you did.”
He stopped immediately and dropped his hand. We stood like that for a long time, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to break the silence.
“Would you like to sit down?” Tristan asked at last.
I nodded silently, and we walked towards his desk. Instead of sitting in his usual seat, Tristan chose to sit in the chair opposite mine so that we were only inches apart. I pushed back the remaining tears from my eyes and glanced up towards him. His eyes were fixed on me and he looked truly sorry.
“Why didn’t you talk to me about all this?” I asked, breaking the long silence.
“Because I knew what you would say,” I said. “You would try and convince me that it would be different with us.”
“And what’s the real problem, Tristan?” I demanded. “I think the real problem is that you have no confidence in yourself.”
“It is,” he acknowledged. “I realized that just recently.”
“So what are you trying to say?” I asked. “You don’t believe you have the capacity to give our relationship a fair shake, you don’t believe you can be there for me? Or is it that you don’t know if you can be faithful to me?”
“I was scared of all those things,” he admitted.
“Why?”
He paused for a moment and I saw the uncertainty in his eyes. “Because I am my father’s son,” he said. “And, I took over his empire. Mom left him because she was sick of waiting around for a man who was more in love with his empire than with his family.”
“I get it,” she sighed. “I understand why that was a problem for them. But we’re not them Tristan, how could you assume it would be the same for us?”
“Because that has been the case for every relationship I’ve had before you,” he said. “Do you know that my longest relationship before you lasted three months? Three months—that’s it.”
“Did you love any of your ex-girlfriends?”
“No,” he replied. “I can say that with every confidence. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
The moment the words were out of his mouth, he froze as though his deepest secret had just been found out. I looked at him with wide eyes. “What did you just say?”
“I…”
I could see him grappling with the words in his head. It looked like he was surprised himself, as though the realization that he had finally fallen in love with someone was a reality he had never envisioned for himself.
“I said, you’re the only woman… I’ve ever loved,” Tristan said slowly, as though he needed to hear it himself, too.
I felt a burst of happiness in my gut, and I wanted to run into Tristan’s arms right then and there. But I sensed the need to hold myself at a distance, at least for now. There were still things we needed to talk about, and I wasn’t prepared to be blind anymore. I had loved Tristan for ten years, but I wasn’t about to compromise my life or myself simply because he had said he loved me.
“Tristan?” I said.
“Yes?”
“You never slept with anyone else while we were together, did you?” I asked.
“No,” he replied. “I never did.”
“And the woman in your shower was—”
“Emma,” he replied, before I could finish the question. “It was only ever Emma.”
“And since we broke up, have you slept with anyone else?” I wanted to know. “And please, please be honest with me.”
Tristan leaned in towards me. “I haven’t slept with anyone else,” he said. “I haven’t even considered sleeping with anyone else. These last few weeks that you’ve been gone… They were hell, Molly. Honestly, it was like I was living in some awful nightmare. And I tried to tell myself it would pass, but seeing you now… I know that it won’t pass.
“I love you, Molly Sinclair…and I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
I felt my heart open up to him instantly, and I realized that I hadn’t been doing a very good job of getting over Tristan. I had simply been in denial. This was the real reason I had come back to Hawaii, to make sure that whatever had stood between us was gone…for both of us. But clearly, that was not the case.
“Molly…”
Tristan sounded nervous suddenly, and I searched his face for some other revelation that would leave me with doubt.
“Yes?”
“The job is yours,” he said. “It’s been waiting for you all this time. You can start immediately.”
“Oh,” I said, not having expected that. “Okay…”
“I know you came back for the job,” he continued. “But I would ask you to consider staying for something else…someone else.”
I felt a smile slip onto my face.
“Would you consider taking me back, Molly?” he asked. “Would you consider coming back to me? Or have I screwed up too badly? Have I hurt you too much to expect you to still love me?”
I stared at Tristan for a long five seconds, memorizing the way his face looked in that moment. He was unbearably handsome, striking and raw. He was bearing his heart to me, and I knew that he was making an unspoken promise, a new commitment that would cement our relationship and take it to a state of permanence.
“Of course, I still love you,” I breathed, feeling the intense relief that came with saying the words. “I’ve loved you since I was fourteen years old. I’m not going to stop now.”
Our eyes met and I saw the burst of relief flow into his eyes. The next moment, we had leaped off our seats and into each other’s arms. I had never felt an embrace like that one before. We clung to each other, trying to get as close as possible. I could feel Tristan’s heartbeat racing against my own. I could feel his hurried breath. I could feel the way his pulse raced ahead, as though it were running a sprint.
When his lips met mine, it felt like the entire world, which had been off its axis for the last five weeks, righted itself again. Suddenly everything was back to normal, everything made sense again.
Our bodies collided like two powerful waves meeting at the end of a long journey. It was a crash that I felt deep inside me. When Tristan began ripping at my clothes, I returned the favor and began pulling at his shirt, unbuckling his pants and grappling with his hands as they rushed over my body.
His lips were searing hot as they grazed my neck, my lips, and my breasts. He pushed me against his desk, and I felt the clatter of unimportant stationary as it hit the ground. Tristan didn’t even blink—he just kept going and I could see the need in his eyes. I massaged his cock as he pulled the dress off me. I knew he wanted me naked—just as I wanted the same of him. We had been too long without one another’s bodies, and I craved the carnal heat of his skin.
When we were both naked, Tristan pushed me back against his desk until I was spread-eagled against the cold wood. When he pushed himself inside me, I let out a loud gasp and grabbed at his toned and muscular arms. He fucked me hard, almost brutally, but it was perfect, it was freeing, and it was exactly what I wanted. I wanted to feel the hard fierceness of his cock as he slammed into me.
My body was alive with lust and desire, and I came faster than I had ever expected to. Tristan was not done, however, and he kept fucking me until gasps and moans were forced from my mouth without my permission. All I could do was cling to him and scream. Just when the second orgasm was about to hit, Tristan pulled me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Pulling me closer into the curve of his body, he kept fucking me.
Our faces were inches apart. I could see the heat of his dark eyes bore into mine, and it made our love making that much more intense. Each time he slipped in and out of me, I felt our connection grow deeper and stronger. This was more than just sex—this was our promise to one another. This was Tristan telling me that he was going to do his best; he was going to try harder. This was me telling Tristan that I wouldn’t leave again, this was me promising him that I would always be there to support and help him.
The second time, he kissed me passionately as we came together in chaos made of moans and screams and gasps of pleasure. He held me afterwards, as I leaned against him. We were both sweating slightly, and I breathed in deeply, realizing that I had missed the musky sensual smell of him.
“This is it, right?” Tristan whispered in my ear.
“It is,” I nodded. “No more getting scared, okay?”
“I can’t promise that,” he told me honestly. “But I promise to come to you if ever I get scared again.”
I smiled and kissed his brow softly. “I can live with that,” I said.