Wishing I never gave him my all.
Wishing I never, ever fell in love with him.
With Cade’s monologue from Room 208 and the revisit to the moment in the balcony, which I saw in a new light, for the first time ever…I doubted my decision to shut him out.
Some people deserved a second chance.
But did you really need a second chance if you never truly lost your first one?
I was actually suspecting Cade hadn’t, and that messed with my head more than anything. An odd sense of guilt settled in my stomach like cement.
“We’re here.” Cade’s voice yanked me back to the situation at hand.
The broken glass. My bleeding palm. The nurse’s office.
“The door’s unlocked, so someone’s been here already.” Cade tugged me inside the room. “C’mon, Ellie.”
Once inside, he closed the door. The nurse’s office felt too small for both our presences and demons. Cade surveyed our surroundings with a critical look. Like an Initiator may be hiding, ready to pull another prank.
“There’s no one else,” I mumbled. “Just us.” Speaking of… “Cade, don’t you find it strange that we haven’t seen a single person in over an hour? It’s not normal.”
St. Victoria was a ginormous campus, but we were a big team of Initiators every year. Crossing paths with other teams happened quite often.
Cade grimaced. “I know. I was thinking that too.”
Fear dribbled into my system. “Do you think someone found out students were here after hours and reported it to the authorities?”
“I don’t know, Ella.” He shook his head. “And I don’t care. The only thing that matters to me is getting your cut bandaged.”
Cade directed me towards the single bed in the nurse’s officeand I sat down while he rummaged through drawers for medical supplies.
Staring out the bay windows, I watched the outside world. It was a murky blur with torrential rain decorating the stygian sky, the medley of thunderbolts and lightning breaking the inky canvas every few pulses. The sight and sound were a mirror reflection of my heart’s inner turmoil, and the vagary of the weather was a depiction of Cade’s and my relationship. Temperamental and persistent despite the odds.
Cade parked himself on a backless stool and wheeled closer to me, bringing with him antiseptic wipes and gauze. He already washed his hands at the sink and snapped on a pair of blue exam gloves. “How do you feel?”
Are you asking about my hand or my heart? Because both hurt tremendously.
“Exhausted,” I answered truthfully. “I’d give anything to be in my bed right now.”
During his rummaging, Cade found a spare candle, which he lit with his Zippo and placed on the table next to the bed. The candle provided a mellow glow that softened our little bubble. “I’ll take you home after this so you can sleep. Did you drive here?”
“No, I hitched a ride with Callie.”
With nimble fingers, Cade tore open the square package of antiseptic wipes and tended to me calmly.
Day or night, whenever I hurt myself, he was there to save the day.
Some things never changed.
I hissed in a breath from the burn when Cade wiped my cut. “I know, I know, babe. It hurts. I’m sorry.”
The tenderness he displayed while dressing my wound nearly undid me. I focused on the gauze he wrapped around my palm instead of the endearing way his brows puckered and the way hislips parted in concentration, giving him a youthful boyishness that only presented itself when he was around me.
In front of the world, he was quiet, lethal, and every bit Montardor’s merciless fixer. Behind closed doors, he was my smiling, gentle, mischievous princepin. The one who laughed with me, held my hand, championed all my ambitions and dreams, and promised to love me until our deaths and beyond.
That’s what drew me to him like bees to honey. The duality of him. The ruthless mob prince and the playful bad boy. Two sides of one coin. Mine to treasure.
As Cade finished bandaging my wound and disposed of his gloves, two prominent thoughts struck me.
