Page 66 of His Cruel Exception

“Can I come in?”

I step aside, watching him enter the room. He moves slowly, his injured arm held close to his body, and I have to stop myself from reaching out to help him. I close the door and turn to face him, feeling all the emotions I've been trying to suppress since leaving New York come rushing back. I'd convinced myself that staying away was the right thing to do, but now that he's here, all I want is to throw myself into his arms and pretend the past few weeks never happened.

“Have you had any panic attacks?”

I blink, caught off guard by the question. “No.”

He nods, his eyes searching my face. “Why did you leave?” he asks, his free hand clenched into a fist at his side.

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Wasn't it obvious?” I say. “If I remain in your life, those after you will keep making attempts on my life to get to you.”

Antonio's jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment before turning back to me. “You left to protect yourself. It's understandable,” he says, his voice low. “But that is my job. You know I would not let anybody touch you, and anyone who does will never live to tell the tale.”

I shake my head, feeling my frustration rise. “You don't get it. You don't get it at all.”

“Then make me understand,” he yells, his voice rough with frustration. “I have been to six fucking states looking for you. Scared out of my mind that something has happened to you and I wasn't there to protect you.”

The force of his words makes me flinch, but it's the desperation in his voice that hurts the most. I know I should be apologizing for putting him through all this, but I can't bring myself to regret leaving when the alternative is something I can barely stand to think about.

“I did it for you, okay?” I say, suddenly tired “You can protect me, I know that. The whole world knows that. But who protects you?”

Confusion crosses his face before understanding slowly takes its place. “To protect me?” he says, almost to himself.

I nod, blinking back the tears gathering in my eyes. All I can see is Francesco raising his gun and Antonio falling beside me, his blood staining the floor while I scream his name. I've had nightmares about that moment almost every night since it happened. Sometimes I wake up convinced he's still lying there, and I have to remind myself that Carmine got to us in time.

But what if he hadn't? What if the bullet had struck just a little differently? What if the doctors hadn't been able to save him? Antonio nearly died because those men knew exactly how much I meant to him, and I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for putting him in that position.

“If I am no longer in your life, your enemies will realize you have no weakness and leave you alone.”

I know it sounds ridiculous now that I'm saying it aloud, but it's the only solution I've been able to come up with. I can't stop loving him, and I certainly can't stop him from going after anyone who hurts me. The only thing I can do is remove myself from his life before someone else decides to use me against him.

“Alexander,” he says, taking a step toward me.

I instinctively reach for him when I notice the slight wince on his face, but he keeps walking until he's standing right in front of me.

“You were never my weakness. You are my strength.”

His expression has softened, and there's so much tenderness in his eyes that I can barely stand to look at him. I'd convinced myself that loving him meant staying away, that losing him was something I'd have to endure if it meant keeping him alive. I never stopped to consider that he might need me just as much as I need him.

I press my trembling lips together, trying desperately to hold back the tears that’d threatening to fall. “Antonio. You...”

“Listen to me, baby.” He cups my face with his good hand, gently lifting my chin until I'm looking into his green eyes. “I've always associated love with loss. Dad and I loved my mom. She was our whole world, and then she died. Even before that, I saw how completely broken Aunt Carmela was when Enzo's dad died. It scared the hell out of me. I started believing that loving someone meant preparing yourself for the day they'd be taken away from you, and all you'd have left was the pain of losing them.”

His thumb brushes gently over my cheek, and I can see how difficult it is for him to talk about this. Antonio rarely speaks about his mother, and whenever he does, there's always a sadness in his eyes that makes me wish I could somehow take away what he's been carrying all these years.

“So I started shielding myself,” he continues. “I thought if I never allowed myself to love anyone that deeply, I'd never have to experience that kind of loss. But then I met you, and everything changed.”

A faint smile touches his lips, and I let out a shaky breath as he continues.

“I still had those beliefs, but I was so strongly drawn to you that I couldn't stay away, no matter how hard I tried. And somewhere along the way, everything I believed about love started to crumble. Your love gives me purpose, Alexander. You've given me something to look forward to every fucking day, and I never knew how much I needed that until you came into my life. I cannot live without you.”

He closes his eyes briefly, drawing in a breath. When he opens them again, something flutters in my stomach. “So, yes, I will always protect you. Because by doing that, I'm protecting myself too. I'm protecting the love I have for you and the happiness and peace I've found with you. I'm protecting the life I want us to have together.”

His voice grows softer, but his eyes never leave mine. “I'm so fucking consumed by you, Alexander, that I don't even know how to explain the extent of it. You've become a part of my life that I never want to lose.” He leans closer, resting his forehead against mine. “I love you, baby. More than I've ever loved anyone, and I'm done being afraid of it.”

I never thought the day would come when I'd hear Antonio say he loves me, let alone hear him explain just how much. I'd made my peace with being the only one who was in love, convincing myself that Antonio probably wouldn't know what to do with love if it smacked him in the face.

I was content with the little ways he showed me he cared, and I'd stopped expecting anything more from him. Yet here is this infuriating man, standing in front of me and saying all the things I've secretly wished to hear for months.