Throne of Truth

His stoic frame shook violently. “You don’t see what I do, Elle. What I’m turning you into. You used to be so pure, and I’m...ruining you. I’ve trapped you in this life when really I should be cruel to you, so you’ll leave me to my own fuck ups.”

His honesty about hating me came full circle with his admission about why.

He was confused. I was confused. Just like every couple who ever had to climb over a few stumbling blocks was confused.

That was romance.

It wasn’t paint-by-numbers or color within the lines. It was messy and scribbly and up to us to draw it how we wanted.

I’d forgiven him the moment he admitted he was hurting.

Taking the argument and turning it into confession, I said, “Despite what you think, I did try to find you. Every day for months, I called police stations. I asked David to hire private investigators to learn your name. I even hired a sketch artist to draw a likeness of you, so people didn’t laugh me out of offices when I mentioned I had no idea who you were but had to help you.”

Penn’s face shattered. “You did?”

“Not a single day went by that I didn’t have guilt on my thoughts. I fell for you, too. I think that’s why I fought you so much when you came back. I couldn’t stomach the thought that I could be attracted to another when I was still hung up on Nameless.”

He swallowed, shaking his head slightly as if he wanted to take every nasty thing he’d done and destroy it.

I wished he could.

I wished we could go back to the night we’d met again at the Weeping Willow, and he’d pulled me into his arms to whisper about Central Park and chocolate kisses.

“You called me Nameless?”

I laughed under my breath. The angry tension snapped, leaving a calm rain-battered landscape in its wake. “What else could I call you?”

“I had no idea you tried to find me.”

“Because you didn’t ask.”

He closed his eyes, tormented and full of regret. “Christ, I ruined everything.”

“No, you didn’t,” I murmured, staring into his haunted gaze. “You just complicated it a little.” Brushing my skirt with suddenly nerve-damp fingers, I added, “But you can’t tell me what to do, Penn. Just like you couldn’t pretend you were something you weren’t.”

I closed the distance between us. “I agree you screwed up. You should’ve given me a chance when you first came to find me. You should’ve trusted in what you felt that night and let me explain.”

His throat worked as he swallowed. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not. You’re just not used to trusting people.”

“If I trust you, Elle, I give you everything I have. I don’t—I don’t know if I can.”

I squeezed my fingers with his. He reluctantly squeezed me back, then almost crippled me with pressure-filled apology.

I brought our joined hands to my mouth and kissed his knuckles. “You have to. Because I’ve already given you everything I have. Even if we end up killing each other, you have every piece of me.”

Penn smiled sadly, utterly solitary and unreachable. “I don’t deserve that.”

He said it as if rejecting my gift.

I’d come here to be connected, yet at that moment, all I felt was loneliness. It wasn’t just physical distance this time but emotional. Penn successfully tugged on all my self-doubt and made me wish things could’ve been different.

That we’d clung to each other that first night.

That I’d been honest and he’d been honest, and we’d fought for each other.

But things weren’t different and could never be.

We had to fight for our future, not what went wrong in our past.

“I can’t have that responsibility,” he whispered. “I can’t let you give me what I’ve always wanted when I don’t fucking deserve it.”

“But you do—”

His lips twisted into a snarl. “I don’t. I was wrong, okay? You were never spoiled. I know how hard you work for your company. I see how much you dote on your father. I understand how Belle Elle and its staff wouldn’t exist without you. You’re so much better than any dream version I could’ve created of you, and that...well, it fucking terrifies me.”

He looked at the floor, severing our connection. “That night in the limo...I was going to break it off. Hell, I was supposed to break it off with you the first time I let you walk out of my apartment without me and almost got hurt by that asshole on the street. I told myself I didn’t care what happened to you. I’d got what I wanted. You’d gotten what you wanted. We were through. But that fucking night three years ago.”

He squeezed my fingers. “I can’t explain it. Maybe I was so lonely I would’ve fallen for anyone who treated me with kindness. Perhaps, I would’ve handed over my soul to the first girl who saw past my rags and lack of riches and kissed me. But I don’t think that’s true. It was you, Elle.” His eyes shone with dark passion. “I fell for you the second I met you. I don’t care if that’s idiotic or improbable; it’s true. The one piece of truth I could never hide with the countless lies I told. I just—”

His head hung. His fingers spasmed. “I’m sorry.”

All my fight trickled away.

I walked into his embrace, slotting myself neatly into him as he rested his chin on my scalp. “I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry I didn’t find you. I’m sorry I left you.”