“I wanted you to have it all,” she replied softly.
“I already do.”
My hands shook as I moved to the next video.
Our engagement party.
I couldn’t. I knew what Church was doing. My punishment was to see Fox again. To see him young, vibrant, and happy. To see Rosalie in love. To see what I’d done by my actions.
My bottom lip shook as I forced myself to look at the images loaded onto the tablet. He must have hacked in or stolen a lot of these. None of it surprised me. He likely just took Rosalie’s phone because I remembered that a lot of them were hers.
Me kissing her. She and Fox. So many of them together. Bubble baths. Selfies in bed. Him holding her tightly as they lay together in bed. Fox playing football. His Heisman win. Some were of all of us together.
I wiped at my eyes as I relived all the memories I’d had with my family.
Then the image that really did me in.
It was me kissing Rosalie while Fox watched. I’d just asked her to marry me. Everyone seemed happy but him. He looked heartbroken as he watched me claim her, even though I knew she belonged to him. He’d given up his dreams for me. For us.
I tossed aside the tablet, sickness rolling through me, and lay in bed, crying softly.
Fuck, I missed Fox.
All I wanted to do was to tell him I was so fucking sorry for hurting him. For trying to take her away as my own. I wanted to keep my family together, but there was more to it than that. I could admit it now.
I wanted her to be mine.
My wife. My last name. My first baby.
Fuck, I’d been such a goddamn prick back then.
But I’d loved her so fucking much. There wasn’t a night that went by that I didn’t long to hold her in my arms in our bed. All I wanted to do was have my family. I wanted to keep us together, but all that happened was that Fox had died, and I’d driven her away. Then she’d come back into my life, and I continued to hurt her because of some fucking contract I didn’t even want to begin with.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
God, I missed her. I missed Fox.
If only I could see him again. I’d tell him how sorry I was. I’d beg him to come home to me. To Cole. To E. To have a family again. I would give Rosalie to him if it meant he’d stay and we’d all be together.
The ugly memory of me holding his body in the underground slammed into me.
God, he’d gone through hell.
And it was all my fault.
I sobbed harder. Louder. All the pain in the world I’d tried to keep buried all these years finally coming to head.
Church really fucking knew how to torture someone.
But maybe I was better at it because I’d sure fucking tortured myself over the years.
It was up for debate.
11
COLE
Ipaced the small cell I was trapped in. I was going insane being stuck down there in the bowels of Satan’s asshole, and by Satan, I meant fucking Dante Church.
