“I’m sorry I left,” he said, his voice a bit stiff.
“Wilf didn’t give you much of a choice.”
His mouth tightened. “I didn’t leave because Wilf told me to go.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to that. She pinched off a small piece of the soft bread, not looking at him as she said, “Tariqdidpay me special attention. But even though he found every excuse to touch me, he never touched me like that.”
Venn was silent for a short moment. When he spoke, his voice was rough. “Good.” There was a thin pause, then, “I still want to kill him.”
A dark part of her wanted Tariq dead, because then she wouldn’t have to fear him anymore. But though Venn was a soldier and had killed before, she didn’t want him to carry the burden of such a thing. Not on her account.
She dropped the piece of bread onto her plate and lengthened her spine, finally meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to reassure you right away.”
The dark skin around his eyes tightened. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“But I do.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve struggled to express my thoughts ever since we found each other.”
“It’s fine,” Venn said at once. “We don’t have to talk.”
“Yes, we do. You’ve been avoiding me.”
His forehead creased. “No I haven’t.”
“You have. And you can’t deny that things are . . . strained between us.”
His gaze cut away, his throat flexing once. “We don’t need to talk about this right now.”
A knot tightened in her stomach. “I think we should. What happened in Wexon . . .”
“What happened in Wexon is behind us,” Venn said, his voice unusually hard. “I’d rather we left it there.”
Her heart cracked. His tone brooked no argument. No going back.
I love you.
Words he’d said to her in Wexon. Words she’d forced herself to ignore so she could push him away. And now he wanted to ignore all of it. His profession of love, the pain she’d caused him, the horrible lies she’d spoken when she was so desperate to be rid of her guilt—to punish herself for feelingreliefthat she had lived, when Ivonne had died . . .
She didn’t know if he wanted to forget it all because of how she’d hurt him, or if it was because he didn’t love her anymore. But she couldn’t blame him. She’d been truly awful to him.
Her shoulders fell. “All right,” she agreed softly. “We leave it in the past.”
He shot her a look, perhaps surprised by her ready agreement. She wasn’t quite sure, because she couldn’t look him in the eye.
She slid her hands over her skirt, smoothing it over her knees. Her fidgeting fingers couldn’t hold still under his stare, and though it was hard to speak, she knew she owed him this. “I’m sorry I hurt you that night. You didn’t deserve that.”
Venn said nothing.
Cheeks burning, she stood, glancing at Venn as he pushed to his feet after her. As if she were a lady, and he was paying her every respect.
She didn’t feel dignified as she hurriedly said, “I’m tired. I think I’ll go sleep for a while.” She walked away, half-wishing he’d follow. That he’d say something.
But he stayed silent beside the table, and Vera was soon alone in her room, wondering how that had gone so poorly.
Chapter 4
Venn
Venn was still in the common room, reeling from his abrupt conversation with Vera.
