"Tell me," he growled in my face. Relentless, he wouldn't stop. "Tell me!" he screamed.
"Go ask your father," I whispered, defeated, pushing him away with all the strength I had. He skidded back across the floor and landed on his ass.
Time stopped.
The air around us stilled.
Thickened.
My eyes stayed focused on the floor, but I knew he was watching me. I could feel the burn of his eyes.
His voice was harsh and mean when he spoke. "Charlie, my father's been dead for almost six years. He committed suicide when I was eighteen."
All of my muscles froze, tightened, and shriveled into dust. "What?" I sobbed.
Soft, warm hands gently pulled at my chin, slid over my jaw, and cupped my neck, pleading with me to look at him. He let out a long, sad sigh when I did. "He was the suspect in an alleged crime and was being brought up on charges of assault and rape."
Defeated.
Empty.
Numb.
I was done.
My body trembled; my bones and muscles were twisting and jumping, trying to break through my flesh. "Yeah? Did...you ever see the...uhhh...victim's name?"
He leaned back and climbed to his feet. Scooping me quickly up off the floor and into his arms, he carried me to the couch, setting me down. He straightened up and with an exasperated expression, he raked a hand through his dark hair. "You don't give me answers, but you get to askmequestions?Fine. No. The report was closed because she was a...minor..."
The words hung in the air.
Heavy with implications.
After what seemed like an interminable silence, Jase's entire body stiffened, his head turned, and his wide-open gaze slowly locked onto mine.
"Charlie..."
"Charlie?"
As if I physically hit him, he staggered back, his head slowly shaking with its denial. His face blanched to a sickening white, and his stare turned vacant.
Immediately, his brain put the pieces together and he just knew. And I knew, there would never be a going back for us—ever. I had completely lost him. I was right to keep this from him all of these years. Now, every beautiful memory we ever shared would be tarnished with revulsion.
Then, there was thatmoment. The moment when someone's expression went from shock to pity for thevictim, and the victim’s life before, whatever kind of amazing person she was, just disappears from their view. I never wanted Jase Delaney to see me as a victim. It's not a part I play well. And the way his whole body reacted to the realization killed me.
His fingertips touched my face as tears slid down his cheeks. I'd never in my life seen a grown man cry. A fire spread across my chest and pooled up into my throat. I wanted to cover my face, curl up into a ball, and die, but he needed this. He needed to see me and forget all we ever were.
"No, Charlie. No, no. No, please, no." He fell to his knees in front of me. "How do I take that back? How? How do I erase that? How do I take that away from you?"
My chest convulsed with sobs and I shrugged. "I wanted you to just let me stay in your mind...perfect, Jase. Someone who once loved you, but chose to live a beautiful life in California with a man that loved her and their two kids. I never wanted you to worry about me. I wanted you to never know. I couldn't hurt you.” My body collapsed back into the cushions of the couch in exhaustion.
I was so tired.
Of life.
Of feeling.
I had no more
