I’m wearing out the floor, pacing back and forth from the kitchen to the living room. I’ve been at this since I first walked in a while ago, and you would think the anger would have started to fade. It hasn’t.
Jace thinks he’s so smart trying to psycho-analyze me. I’ve spent years dealing with what happened to me. He’s known the truth for a few short months and suddenly he’s an expert on what I need. My entire purpose for never telling anyone my truth was to avoid things like this. If I wanted professional help, I would have sought it out years ago. If he can’t deal with my wild mood swings, then I guess we weren’t meant for one another anyway.
So why can’t I get the sound of his voice out of my head? And why, when I close my eyes, do I see the devastated expression on his face? The words he said to me keep playing on repeat over and over again. Even though I hate to admit it, I do know he pushed me as hard as he did because he cares.
I should be livid with him. Hell, I suppose I am. More than that, I’m disappointed that he made such a big deal out of nothing. Why couldn’t he have simply comforted me instead of turning the entire thing into one huge issue?
A knock sounds at my door, and I halt my pacing to turn and stare at it. Of course he’d try to track me down. Jace is not a man who is easily swayed by anger or by me walking out on him. We’ve been down this same road a few times since we started seeing one another. Though this version is slightly different than the last, the guts are all the same: he wants me to talk, I refuse, end of story.
I should have expected he’d come here eventually to plead his case, maybe even muster up an apology. Not that I want his apology, but I’m sure I can find a few choice words to toss his direction before I tell him goodbye for good.
With that in mind, I yank open the door and my mouth falls to the floor. Roman is standing there looking frazzled and wide eyed, hair a mess, his face white as a sheet. “What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t say a word as he steps inside and pulls me into his arms. Roman towers over me, a tall, hunky brute of a man who practically smothers me in his embrace. My face is shoved against his wide chest, and he’s holding me so tightly I can barely breathe. I can feel the tremors throughout his body, a shaking that takes hold of him as he starts to sob into my hair. I’ve seen my brother upset before, but never once have I seen him this emotional. Maybe it’s just a coincidence that he’s here on this same night I ended things with Jace. Maybe something terrible happened to Sabrina or Emmy.
“What’s wrong, Roman? Is it the girls? Talk to me.”
It takes him a good long time to pull himself together and when he does, I gasp out loud at what I see—what I never, ever wanted to see on my brother’s face. Pity. Somehow, someway, he knows about what happened to me. I can see it in the bruised expression on his face, the still watery eyes that leak tears the longer he looks at me. I can feel it in the fear emanating from him into me. I sense it in the tension that suddenly fills my entire apartment. This secret I’ve held close my entire life, trusted no one with until recently, has now done exactly what I’ve always feared and caused irreparable pain.
“What the fuck did Jace do?”
Roman closes the door and leans back against it with his arms pulled tight across his chest. “He told me the truth. A truth I should have heard from you.”
Spinning on my heel, I resume my frantic pacing. “He had no right to tell you!” Coming to a halt, I snap, “I trusted him! He promised he would never tell a single soul.”
“Come on, Bella. Sit down and let’s talk about this.”
Rage bubbles up as I back away from my brother. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Roman steps closer to me, pleading, “He didn’t know what else to do! He wants to help you. I want to help you.”
“I don’t want your help!” I’m pacing once again, my bare feet slapping on the cold tile. “If I wanted help, I would have asked for it years ago.”
“So why didn’t you?” he dares.
With my back to him, my feet come to a grinding halt right in front of the sliding glass door. “Because then you’d look at me like you are now. Poor little Bella. All broken and used up. She can’t even keep a boyfriend.”
“Is that what you think? You think because I know what happened to you, I’m all of sudden going to pity you?” His voice rises with anger. “Fuck that shit, Bella. I’m pissed. I’m pissed that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth and let me help you through all of it. I’m pissed that all these years have gone by and I’ve just accepted the fact that you are locked up like a vault. I should have dug deeper. I should have pushed you until you felt like you trusted me enough to tell me the truth.”
This time when I turn to face him, he’s moved closer to where I’m standing. His eyes are black with anger, jaw tense. Red splotches on his cheekbones hint at his level of frustration with me … with all of it.
“This was not about trust.”
His eyes narrow. “Bullshit. If you trusted me, you would have told me. I wouldn’t have had to find out from your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” His anger has sucked mine dry, and all I can do now is lower to the edge of my couch in an exhausted heap. “I knew you’d be hurt. I couldn’t bear that. That’s why I didn’t tell you.” I’ll never forget how it felt to have him weep over me, distraught and terrified for his baby sister.
“Jesus, Bella, you don’t think I’m hurt now? I didn’t just cry my fucking eyes out for nothing.” Elbows propped up on his knees, he tears his fingers through his hair and stares at the floor. “Do you have any idea how it feels to know that you’ve been dealing with this all by yourself? That you had no one to lean on. No shoulder to cry on. No ear to bend.” Turning his head, he looks at me with tear-filled eyes. “Christ, you break my heart. You know that?”
Reacting by instinct alone, I crawl across the couch and into his lap, head buried in his neck as his arms come around me once more. “I wanted to tell you. But … but I just … I just couldn’t hurt you like that.” My voice breaks, the sound wobbly and weak. “I hate hurting you.” My toes dig into the couch cushion as I consider the avalanche of pain yet to come. “Are you going to tell the others?”
“I’m not telling anyone until I make sure you’re okay.” He tips his head against mine. “Well, probably Sabrina, but that’s only because I can’t ever lie to her.”
“I understand,” I reply softly. It’s bad enough that I have lied to my entire family for the better part of ten years. There’s no way I could ever expect him to withhold the truth from his fiancée.
After a few long, silent moments, he takes a shaky breath. “Jace was really upset.”
Closing my eyes, I nod slowly. “I know. He’s been so patient with me.”
“He cares about you, Bella. He cares a lot.”
“Yeah, I know.” Knowing that makes it harder than ever to turn my back on him. “He’s a good guy. He doesn’t deserve all this crap.”
“Gotta take the good with the bad. That’s what loving someone is all about.”
“I don’t love him.” The lie floats off my tongue so effortlessly even I’m amazed. I’ve gotten really, really good at denying most truths over the years. This one more so than all of them combined. “I enjoy spending time with him, but maybe it’s all too much for me.”
I swear I can feel my heart splintering into itty bitty pieces. From the moment I was pulled out of that nightmare, I’ve done nothing but react. And I’m tired. I’m damn exhausted, actually. I’m finished running from Jace. I need to let him go gently, and let him move on with his life. Regardless of what happens to me now, I can’t continue to drag him down. He deserves so much better than that. He deserves to laugh and smile and play “Name That Tune” with a woman who will love him like he deserves to be loved. Someone open. Someone willing. Someone who is not me.
Closing my eyes, I sag against my brother and let fatigue take over. I can worry about how to handle Roman and Jace and the fallout from all this tomorrow. Right now, I just want to close my eyes and sleep away the memories. I just want to escape the horror for a bit longer.