Sorry for taking a drink off a stranger.
Sorry for thinking not everyone has bad intentions.
I’m sorry for saying sorry.
My gaze fixes on the ground as I gently sway back and forth, trying to soothe the argument that rumbles in my head.
“Indie, none of this was your fault. There’s not a single piece of blame that can be placed on any of you.”
I can feel his gaze searing into the side of my cheek, but I can’t look at him.
If I do, I’ll only delay the inevitable. He doesn’t deserve to be stuck with me a moment longer.
I clear my throat. “Maybe if I was—”
“No, Indie. There’s no fucking excuse for what the two of them did. Nothing in this entire world could convince me of that.It shouldn’t for you, either. They’ll get what’s fucking coming to them.” He snaps the last word out, like he just spat out venom.
I glance to the side as he runs a hand through his hair before it fists in his lap.
“I promise you, darling,” he adds with a whisper, and I know he’d do anything to protect me, but Conrad and George’s father is a judge; I don’t want Saint to get in trouble.
Another reason smacks itself into the pile on why I need to let him go.
“Saint…I—” The rest of my words get stuck in my throat, the sentences jumbling up inside my head, causing a strain to burn behind my eyes.
“Talk to me, please.”
When I still hold my silence, I hear the metal creaking above us, and he moves to crouch down in front of me.
“Indie?”
I suck in a jagged breath, my gaze still locked in on the ground, pleading with the earth to give me the strength to do this.
“I love you, Saint. I do. It’s just…everything’s too much right now. I want to feel better. But I’m pulling you down this hole with me. I don’t want to do that anymore.”
“You’re not doing anything to me.”
I scoff at his words, my hands wringing in my lap. “You’re being so nice to me, more than usual.”
He hasn’t made a single attempt to touch me, kiss me, nothing intimate, and I’m grateful. Part of me wants him to, to see if I can stand it, but the other half feels like I’m too dirty. Like nothing will be able to wash the stains away, and I can’t taint him with them.
“I’m just giving you patience, baby.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to fight the burn.
“I know.” I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face.
My thoughts go from one extreme to the other. From the rational to the downright illogical.
“God, I know you are, and I want that, but I…fuck.”
Sometimes I don’t know what I’m trying to say or even think. As soon as I open my mouth, the thoughts all scramble turbulently in my head, and I believe it’s the reason why my head is constantly throbbing.
“What do you need from me? Tell me what I can do?” he asks, and I finally dare myself to look at him.
He is absolutely perfect.
Too perfect for someone as damaged as me.
