Page 61 of Irrevocably

I don’t know why that feels close to painful. Yes, she’s mine, but it’s only here that I’ve claimed her. None of this can last outside these walls, not given who I am and who she is.

You have to get rid of her if you’re feeling like this.

I tear my gaze from her and turn around to face the flames again. Another first. I was always good at hiding my emotions. So good in fact that I believed I didn’t have any at all, but … that’s what she sees in me, that I can’t see myself. She sees emotions in me that I thought were long gone, and that’s just not possible. I can’t allow it. I’m still not free, and until I am, those emotions will have to be cut out of me yet again.

You have to start with her.

The flames leap and crackle, yet more pops coming from the logs.

“Lucien?” she says into the silence.

Yes, I have to start with her. She’s the one who’s changing me, making me feel things I shouldn’t feel, compromising me. She has to be cut out, because until she is, I can’t do my job.

“Yes,” I say, gazing down into the flames. “I’ll free him. You can get him to take you home, tell him a story about how I stalked you. Then talk to your father.”

She lets out an audible breath, and I hear the rustle of the blanket, a few soft footfalls, and she’s coming up behind me. Her arms slide around my waist, her fingers clasped over my stomach. Then I feel more soft warmth against my back as she lays her cheek on my skin. “Thank you,” she breathes. “Thank you, Luc.”

My chest tightens at the thread of real gratitude in her voice and the way she shortens my name. As if she knows me. As if I’m her friend. This embrace feels next to painful, because I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve her thanks, not given what I’ve done to her already. Nevertheless, she’s giving it to me as if she means it, and I know she does.

Christ. I need to get rid of her before she unravels me completely.

I reach down and grab her hands still clasped on my stomach and pull them away. Then I step out of her embrace and turn around.

She stands in front of me, the blanket drawn around her, skin lit pink and gold by the flames, the same colours lighting her pale hair. That crease is back between her brows. She’s picked up on my mood.

“Get dressed,” I say shortly.

Her eyes widen. “Wait. What?”

“You asked me to let him go, so I’m letting him go.”

“Now?”

I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans to stop from reaching for her. “Yes, now.”

“But…” She trails off, searching my face. “We can leave it another hour surely?”

The thing in my chest, a tight, coiled ache pulses like a raw wound. She doesn’t want to go, not yet, and I don’t want her to, either. But I have to cut her out at some point and it’s better now than later.

Later, I might not be able to cut her out at all.

“I don’t think so,” I say, keeping my voice cool.

She blinks as though I’ve dealt her a blow. “Lucien, I⁠—”

“You wanted to free your friend, didn’t you?” I interrupt, needing this conversation to be over. “Put your clothes on and I’ll give you the key to the padlock.”

She doesn’t move, only stares at me. “Is this it, then? You and me?”

“There is no you and me.”

“You said I was yours. You said⁠—”

“I know what I said.” I can’t prevent the harsh edge from entering my voice. “Yes, you’re mine. While you’re here. But we can’t stay here, Astrid. I have a mission and you have your studies, and those two things are mutually incompatible.”

Emotions flicker over her expressive face, a bright, clear hurt, and I’m moving before I can stop myself, closing the distance between us, then taking her flushed face between my palms. “I’m sorry,” I say, softening the words, letting her see in my eyes that I mean it. “If I was a different man I would have a different answer for you, but I’m not. You have your responsibilities, and so do I.”

She stares up at me, the flames painting warm colours over her pretty pale skin. She doesn’t bother to hide that this upsets her, hurts her. She lets me see it. “But surely, we can see each other again. This isn’t goodbye completely, right?”