"This isn't an act." I pull away from her warmth and certainty. I don't deserve it. "This is me. The real me. The one who destroys everything he touches."
"I don't believe that," she says quietly.
"Then you're not paying attention." I reach for the bottle again, but she's faster. There's a slight tremor in her fingers as she sets it down firmly on the bar cart.
Ivy's eyes are wet, but she doesn't look away. "Do you actually believe that, or is that just the easiest thing to be?"
Her question breaks me. There is nothing easy about this. Yet, I study her face, looking for the lie, the doubt, the moment when she'll realize what everyone else already knows—that I'm not worth believing in.
But she just stands there, looking at me like I'm someone worth defending.
I should keep my mouth shut. Let her believe whatever she wants. But the bourbon's loosening my tongue, and she needs to understand who I really am. What I've done.
"You and Rosalia seem to get along," I say.
She blinks at the apparent subject change. "Rose? Yes, we do. She's wonderful. And I know, Thorne, you told me. There was a bet and you extorted them."
“And you’re fine with that?” My laugh is harsh.
“Of course not, but I see you trying to make amends.”
“Did you know Rosalia is his second wife?”
“I did.” Her shoulders tense and she takes a small step back. Like she's bracing herself. Smart woman.
“I’m the reason they divorced.”
“Oh, Thorne, what did you do?”
My words are starting to blur together, the sharp edges softening. The room has that pleasant tilt to it now, everything just slightly off-balance. The bourbon's doing its work now
“If he hadn’t walked in on us, I’d have fucked her,” I say bluntly. I’d been drunker than I am now, but that’s an excuse for the inexcusable.
Ivy jerks back like I slapped her. “Why would you do that to anyone, let alone your brother?”
“She liked the attention. To play me against him. She’d done when I dated her. And later, when Sebastian married her. Iwarned him, but he wouldn’t listen…so I’d shown him.” I laugh without humor.
She looks at me.
"You're right," she finally says. "You've done terrible things."
Her gaze goes somewhere past me, like she can't look at me now that she finally sees me for the man I am. Weighing what I am against what she thought I was. I have no defense and wait for her verdict.
"But I also see you trying not to be that person anymore." She moves to the couch, sits down like the weight of tonight has finally caught up with her.
I exhale, not realizing I was holding my breath. There’s no way she could believe what she said.
Yet hope follows me as I take the seat next to her.
The rain still drumming against the windows is the only sound. I'm acutely aware of how close she is, how she hasn't pulled away despite everything I've told her tonight.
"You matter, Thorne," she says suddenly, her voice quiet but certain.
The words hit me like a shot to the chest. "Why?" The question comes out broken, raw. "Why do I matter, Ivy? Give me one good reason why anyone should give a shit about what happens to me. After everything I've done. Everything."
"Because you're not your mistakes." Her voice cracks slightly on the last word, and she blinks hard before meeting my gaze again. "Because you're trying, even when it's hard. Even when it would be easier to run. Because beneath all this self-loathing is a man who stayed when he could have left. A man who took in his half-sister when he could have pushed her away. A man who's fighting for his family."
I want to push her away. Want to say something that will make her hate me. Because if she hates me, I can't hurt her worse later.
