“We fucked,” I said, voice dangerously low, “and then you disappeared.”
She looked up at me, unflinching even as her fingers curled against my T-shirt. “You should be used to that, considering you’re an expert.”
I waited for the familiar rush of panic to kick in at the barest touch, but instead, a slow grin tugged at my mouth. “Jealousy suits you, blondie.”
“Ridiculous,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “I’ll ask again. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for you,” I said simply. As if it was obvious.
Her laugh was short, forced. “What if that’s not what I want?”
My hands gripped the counter behind her, the sharp edge biting into my palms just to keep me grounded. “Then tell me,” I said quietly. “What do you want, Violet? What do I need to do for you to forgive me?”
She didn’t hesitate. “You can leave me alone.”
The words hit harder than I expected, cracking something deep in my chest. I should’ve backed off, walked away like anysane man would. Instead, I leaned closer, close enough that I could see the pulse jumping at her throat.
“Anything but that,” I murmured, my voice rough around the edges. “Three months, Violet. Three fucking months of pretending I could do it. I can’t.”
Her eyes flashed, emotion flickering like lightning. Fear, anger, and something dangerously close to need. “You don’t get to just show up and decide that. You don’t get to ruin my life and then pretend you’re the fucking hero,” she said, the words snapping out like bullets. “This is all your fault! Everything was fine untilyouturned up.”
“I’m not going to apologise for finding you,” I said, my tone calm only because I was forcing it to be.
Her hands clenched tighter against my shirt, knuckles white, bare shoulders trembling.
“But Iamsorry,” I said after a beat, softer this time. “I’m sorry for everything that came after. I’m sorry that you’re involved in whatever the fuck this is. I’m sorry for taking the money. For lying. For every choice that made you look at me like I’m a monster.”
Her breath hitched, and her eyes flicked to mine, hurt and fury colliding in a twisted storm. “I can’t forgive you.”
I nodded slowly, the ache behind my ribs sharp and familiar. “Then I’ll keep trying.”
Releasing my shirt, she leaned back against the counter, the sound of paper rustling as her hands brushed over the mess of sketches she’d left there.
Some were of flowers, the drawings starting rough before they became great sweeps of imagination that echoed her distinctive style. Then there were others, eyes—mine, obviously—as well as silhouettes, and even a snake that was almost identical to the one inked on my skin.
“Well, look at that,” I murmured, holding one up between us. “Seems you missed me after all.”
Her hand shot out, snatching the drawing from my grip. Her cheeks flushed, highlighting those pretty freckles. “Why couldn’t you let me go?”
What kind of question was that?
Pushing myself away, I gave her the space she wanted, if only to calm myself down.
She didn’t move aside from pressing herself tighter against the counter. “I don’t get why you’re here. What makes me different than all those other women you’ve fucked and then discarded?”
“They were just bodies,” I growled. “They never meant anything.”
“And I do?”
My jaw clenched, frustrated that I was being made to say it out loud. “You meaneverything.”
She swallowed, a delicate roll of her throat. “Why?” Her voice cracked. “You don’t even know me.”
I dragged a hand through my hair, forcing myself to breathe before I said something I couldn’t take back. “I don’t know,” I admitted, voice rough. “I can’t explain it, and yet, here I am, Violet. Standing here, against every bit of logic I’ve ever lived by. For you.”
She didn’t say anything, trembling slightly as she clutched her sketches against her chest while I felt her everywhere. In my head. Under my skin. An obsession bleeding too close to an addiction.
I tried to let her walk away. To forget her.
