Page 59 of She Haunts Me Still

But maybe people don’t get to pick who they are.

“Tell me,” she finally says, “why you lied.”

Ezra’s hand freezes. His grin flutters away. “You’re still angry with me.”

Mallory presses her lips together. She wishes she were angrier. “Why didn’t you just explain everything from the start?”

His jaw knots. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell the truth after a lie has already taken hold.”

She nods, thinking guiltily of Arden. “That’s true.”

“Jules, I’m sorry.” Ezra laces his fingers through hers, and his voice hardens as he adds, “I’m so fucking tired of doing bad things for him.”

“Your father?” Mallory studies him. “What else has he asked you to do?”

Ezra shakes his head, the gesture clear. He doesn’t want to talk about it.

“You tell yourself at first that you don’t have a choice,” he says. “You’re still a good person—you’re just doing what you’re told.” His nostrils flare. “But after a while, it doesn’t matter why you’re doing bad things. You’re one and the same.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” she counters. “Maybe there is no good or bad. Maybe everyone is a little of both. Sometimes the bad parts may be louder, but there’s still good underneath.”

“Not for him,” Ezra says. “Not for me.”

Mallory’s brow furrows. “Thereisgood in you, Ezra.”

“You don’t understand the kind of person my father is,” he says. “The kind of monster who raised me.”

“Ezra—”

“That night we talked in the courtyard, I told you my mother left us. That’s not true.” Ezra closes his eyes, andMallory immediately falls quiet at the admission of another lie. “My father killed her.”

Too many emotions cascade inside her at once—anger, fear, empathy, compassion. The mismatched concoction makes her queasy, palms slippery with sudden cold sweat.

“He never admitted it.” Ezra opens his eyes, and they’re rimmed red. “The public story is that she moved to Europe to be with a younger man. I only knew her for a few years, but I don’t believe she would have done that. She loved me—she never would have left me like that.” His gaze hardens. “I think she wanted to leavehim. And if he couldn’t have her, no one could. That’s where I come from.That’smy family.” He shakes his head. “It’s all I know.”

For a moment, Mallory doesn’t say anything. She could climb out of bed, get dressed, leave. Bury the remaining hurt, try to forget all the divergent ways he’s made her feel.

Or she could stay.

She’s not sure what makes her decide. But her free hand lands on Ezra’s jaw, fingers caressing his cheekbone.

“Ezra,” she says. “The man I met in the chapel—you’re nothing like him.”

Ezra’s expression is impossible to read, caught somewhere between despair and something strikingly numb. “You don’t understand,” he says. “I’m terrified I’m going to hurt you in some way, like he did to her. Like I’m genetically programmed to be evil. Like it’s something I can’t control.” He swallows. “Maybe you were right to want nothing to do with me. Maybe you should leave before it’s too late.”

His tone is all too familiar, and she realizes that Ezra’s hatred for himself sounds a lot like the self-loathing that’s pinned in her own belly. The fear that somewhere, deep inside, she’sjust like her mother. Predisposed to reject romantic love and forge a hardened shell around herself, believing that being lonely is better than being the cause of others’ pain.

Maybe it’s not weakness that’s kept her in Ezra’s arms after he deceived her. Maybe it’s forgiveness. Grace. He may be her undoing, but she’s allowing herself to come undone.

“It’s already too late,” she says. “I’m where I want to be.”

Ezra holds her stare, dozens of emotions shifting in his eyes. And then, he squeezes her hand, hard.

Their code but reversed. Because this time, Ezra is the one who’s scared.

Understanding, Mallory squeezes his palm back. Once. Twice—

Ezra’s mouth is on hers before she finishes the second pulse, but the message is woven into his kiss all the same.This is what’s real.