Page 49 of Damiano De Luca (The Five Syndicates)
Yes, but I didn’t think he had.
I ran a hand across my face. “I was young. I didn’t mean it.”
I’d also needed him not to chase me, though that didn’t work out. He’d chased and chased and chased, and I’d used my family’s resources to make sure I was never found. Even when everything in me wanted to come back to him, I reminded myself of how much it hurt to leave the first time.
Disbelief painted his features. “You honestly expect me to believe that?”
Our relationship was so starved of honesty that I couldn’t expect him to believe anything that came out of my mouth. My reasons for coming to Texas? Apparently, a lie. My reasons for leaving? Definitely a lie. How many lies had we told in between? How about the last time we’d been in New York for Vince’s funeral?
This was escalating far quicker than I could keep up. My hands formed fists at my sides. I shook my head. “I was never supposed to be in Texas in the first place! I was eighteen. A kid. We were both kids, and it’s not like you loved me.”
“I did though.”
No. Way.
His eyes dipped to the stupid ring on my finger, one I’d been fiddling with all morning. “I fucking did!”
“You never said it.”
“I did!”
“When we had sex—one time. And it was because of the sex.” My hands shook. I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t. “You never said it any other time.”
“I didn’t think I had to. I didn’t think there was a rush. I didn’t think you’d leave!” He shook his head. “And it wasn’t because of the sex. I meant what I said.”
“I… I—” I scrambled over him and off the bed, needing the space. I paced the length of the bed, choosing my words before giving up and heading to the door.
“Knight!” He stood and ate the two steps between us. “You don’t get to walk away this time.”
“Are you blaming me for this?!” I shook my head. “You’re the one who lied to me. That was you, Damsel. Not me. You.” I turned to face him. “I loved you, and you lied to me.”
Damian shook his head. “I didn’t lie to you.”
I scoffed. “A lie of omission is still a lie.”
Damian and I had seen each other for all of five minutes, and a full-blown argument had ensued. I wished I was better at saying no to Maman when she asked me to return. Then, I wouldn’t be here, a knot the size of Texas in my throat as I tried to speak past it.
Damian’s eyes were dark with frustration. “How can you stand there, so angry at me, when you have a goddamn ring on your finger?!” He took a step toward me, and I resisted the dueling urges to kiss him and extricate myself from this situation. “You’re married, Ren; yet, you clearly still care about me.”
Screw this ring.
I tore it from my finger and tossed it at his chest. “I’m not married, Damsel.” Humiliation tingled across my spine. “My mom gave me the ring to wear on my ring finger before I left, so I’d have armor when I faced you. Happy?!”
This fight had been a long time coming. Honestly, it felt good to get this out, like it needed to happen before we could move forward. Each word I spoke eased my anger and healed a bit of pain. And now that I had this ring off my finger, a giant weight lifted off my shoulders.
The ring bounced off his chest and hit the floor. He stared at it before backing me into the bookshelf behind me. “You’re not married?”
“No.” I looked away.
“You try to be so strong”—he cupped my face and moved it until I stared into his eyes—“and you are. So, so strong, Renata. But you don’t need to be strong all the time. You’re perfect, even when you’re fragile. You put up these walls you don’t need to put up. You don’t need the baggy clothes nor the tight pencil skirts and fancy evening gowns. You don’t need the ring. You can wear whatever you want and be whoever you want, and you’d still be the best person I know.”
It was too much.
His words.
Him.
I pushed him away. “You don’t know me anymore.”
