I run a towel over my curls, blindly finding my way back to my bedroom, where Rowan is lying naked on my bed.
My clearly spent dick twitches, and I sigh in annoyance at how easily my body perks at the sight of him. I swear, I’m never going to sleep a full eight hours again if my lower region or Rowan himself has anything to say about it.
“Ready for bed?” I ask.
Rowan lifts his head to look at me, his eyes tracing the lines of my body as if he wasn’t towering over me for an hour just twenty minutes ago.
“Yeah,” he says, scooting over to make room for me.
I flop down onto the bed, relaxing under his touch as Rowan’s fingers brush over my stomach.
The light of the moon filters in through the curtains, and I close my eyes, taking a moment to relish in the life I’m now living.
Peace.
“Hey.” Rowan interrupts my thoughts, and his voice holds warmth and a bit of nerves.
“Hm?”
“If Bennett comes up to you again, you can always come and get me, you know that, right?” he asks.
“What?” My eyes shoot open, and Rowan is propped up on his elbow, peering down at me.
“I have no issues handling confrontation, and I’m your protector. I could have very easily sent him away.”
The way he says it implies Idohave an issue with confrontation, which I absolutely do not.
And this circles me back to the one and only problem that still lingers between us: Rowan still sees me as the perfect reincarnation of Benjamin.
At this point, I do believe him, and in fate, but I’m not Benjamin. Not anymore. I can protect myself; I can handle confronting a waiter.
“I was fine, I can handle Bennett,” I insist.
“I know you can, baby. I’m not saying that. But I’m here to help you, and I just want you to remember that.”
There’s an irrational anger building inside of me. One that I’ve felt ticking higher and higher since the first moment he intervened on my behalf. It’s an unfair, cruel anger—considering I’ve fed into his fantasy this entire time.
I want to keep him. I want Rowan to stay with me for the rest of my life; I simply cannot imagine a future without him.
But do I want a future built on growing resentment that has no rhyme or reason?
I think it’s time to come clean. I think this is what’s holding me back—what is keeping me from loving him fully.
“Rowan.” I sit up, angling my body toward his. “I… I need to talk to you about something.”
“Okay,” he says, and his voice is hesitant and a bit afraid. Anticipating rejection or anger.
“I think… I think there is some confusion here. I know you tell me you love me, but it’s highly likely that you don’t.”
“What? Elijah, I—”
“You love Benjamin,” I state simply.
Rowan raises a brow, almost as if to ask me with his expression alone if I’m stupid.“YouareBenjamin. I thought you had decided you believed?”
“No—I mean yes, I do.” I sigh. “But it doesn’t matter whether or not I believe it. What I’m saying is, I’m not who you think I am. You have this idea in your mind that Benjamin and I are the same person, and we’re not.”
“I’m so confused.” Rowan sits up completely, his green eyes narrowed slightly.
