“I’ve been afraid, mon bien-aimé. So fucking afraid of losingyou.”
“I don’t know how I go forward with you after this.” Because what do I really have with Tristan if I can’t trusthim?
“Please don’t say that.” He rises to a sitting position and pulls me against him. “This is what I’ve been terrified of—your leavingme.”
He should be terrified because I’m not sure how I’ll get over this. And where do we go from here if his plan has been successful? “I may be pregnant, Tristan. Pregnant! With ababy!”
“I don’t want there to be lies between us, mon bien-aimé. And I’d be lying if I told you that I didn’t wantthat.”
“I wanted that too but not this way. Not by deception andtrickery.”
I wonder how he’d feel if the situation were reversed. What if I’d been the one to pull out the IUD in an attempt to get pregnant? He’d befurious.
He wraps his arms around me and presses his forehead to my chest between my bare breasts. “Please tell me that I haven’t ruined everything betweenus.”
“I can’t tell you that right now. But I can tell you that I won’t be coming home after Michaela’sparty.”
His hold on me tightens. “No, mon bien-aimé. No. You can’t leaveme.”
I push against him, but his hold remains firm. “I actually can leave; my freedom has beenearned.”
“I wasn’t implying that you couldn’t leave. I just meant that I need you here with me because we can’t work this out if we’reapart.”
I look down and shake my head. “I’m not in a place right now where I want to hear anything you have to say. I need space, and for once, I need you to respect the boundaries I’m givingyou.”
He’s still holding me tightly, as though he doesn’t plan to let mego.
“Rouge.”
The hitch in his breath is unmistakable, and a moment later he releases his hold on me. “How long do you need, mon bien-aimé?”
“I can’t answer that. I can’t answer anything about the present or the future because I don’t know rightnow.”
I only know that my heart isshattered.
Trust is essential. It has the power to make something beautiful or destroy it. And right now, its absence feels like it’s shatteringus.
* * *
I’ve been sobusy with Michaela’s party today that I haven’t had time to think about Tristan and what he has done to me. But the party is over now, and he’s all that I can thinkof.
I’m glad that I was with my family today. I needed to be with people I love and trust, but now I need girl time. And girltalk.
Avery meets me at her front door with a bottle and two shot glasses. “Fireballokay?”
I’m still a little nauseous from last night, but I need a stiff drink after the shit Tristan pulled on me. “Fireball isgreat.”
“You aren’t driving back to New Orleanstonight?”
“I’m definitely not going back to NewOrleans.”
Avery makes her oh-shit face. “Uh-oh. That doesn’t soundgood.”
“It’s fucked up is what itis.”
We go into Avery’s kitchen and she fills both shot glasses, pushing one across the island until it’s in front of me. “What’s going on,girl?”
“Tristan…” God, I don’t even know what to say about what he’s done. “I’m not sure if it’s because Tristan is a Dom or because he’s always been a rich-as-fuck-spoiled-brat, or if there’s some other reason that I’ve not yet discovered, but he’s very different from other men. When he wants something, he gets it at any cost. It doesn’t matter what itis.”
