“And safety is?” His words are a slap, sharp and biting. “You’re lying to yourself, Annabel. You don’t want a life. You want a cage.”
His words hit their mark, and I flinch, the wine glass slipping from my hand and shattering against the floor. The sound is a gunshot in the silence, and for a moment, neither of us moves. Then Jonathan steps forward, his hand reaching for mine.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I didn’t mean?—”
“Yes, you did,” I snap, pulling away from him. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe I do want a cage. Maybe I need one. Because being with you... it’s chaos, Jonathan. We’re a storm.”
“And Calum?” he asks, his voice heavy with disdain. “Does he make you feel like you can breathe?”
“No,” I admit, tears stinging my eyes. “But at least with him, I know where I stand.”
Jonathan lets out a bitter laugh, raking a hand through his hair. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to marry him.Come with me, Annabel. We can leave tonight. Go anywhere you want.”
“And then what?” I ask, my voice rising. “What happens when the chaos takes over? When you realize I’m not who you think I am?”
“I don’t care,” Jonathan says, stepping closer again. His hands find my face, his touch firm yet tender. “I don’t care who you are, Annabel. I just want you.”
His words undo me. Before I can stop myself, I’m kissing him, my hands clutching at his shirt, pulling him closer, deeper. The world tilts, and for a moment, nothing else exists. Just him. Just us.
Jonathan kisses me like he’s drowning, his desperation matching my own. His hands are everywhere—my waist, my back, my hair—anchoring me to him as though I might slip away. And maybe I will. Maybe I already have.
When we break apart, gasping for air, his forehead rests against mine. “Don’t leave me,” he whispers, his voice raw. “Please.”
I close my eyes, tears slipping down my cheeks. “I can’t do this, Jonathan. This has to end.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “It doesn’t. It doesn’t have to.”
“It does.” I pull away from him, putting distance between us. My chest aches, my entire body screaming at me to go back to him, to let myself fall. But I can’t. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand,” he pleads, his voice breaking.
I shake my head, wrapping my arms around myself. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Jonathan stares at me for a long moment, his expression a mixture of heartbreak and fury.
Chapter Thirty-One
Jonathan-past
“So that’s it? You’re his now?” I stand in the middle of her hotel room. “Why did you call me over here tonight then?”
“I’m still me,” she says, but her voice is weak. Hollow. A ghost of the girl who used to race me barefoot through tidepools and whisper secrets into my hair.
“No. You’re half-his, never mine,” I mutter, stepping closer. “But I’ve loved you since you were thirteen and furious and wild and brave enough to scare the hell out of me.”
Her breath catches. “You’re not mine either. You married mycousin.”
“I was meant to be in your family, one way or another,” I spit, regretting my words the instant she flinches. “You think I haven’t seen you trying to disappear into his world?” I lean in until my breath hits her mouth. “Regardless of anything else you’ll always be mine, Annabel. You don’t get to erase that.”
I kiss her before she can lie.
She shudders when my mouth crashes onto hers—no patience, no apologies. My hands are already in her hair, tugging, twisting. She moans into me, her body pliant andwarm and frantic. Her fingers claw at my back. She tastes like lemon and longing.
I hover over her body on the hotel bed, grasping her thighs and pulling her against me. She gasps but doesn’t stop me. Her legs wrap around my waist, drawing me in, anchoring me.
I trail my lips down her neck, biting, sucking until her skin blooms red. She cries out when I bite her shoulder, when I tug her red dress off one arm and latch onto a nipple, hard and needy. I lick, suck, savor, the other pebbled peak begging for my mouth.
“You do this to me,” I whisper against her breast. “Only you. Always you.”
