Page 324 of Hateful Games

“Baby,” I hoarsely cry out and grab his shoulders, tracing my hands up his neck to his face. Cupping his unshaven jaw, I whisper apologetically, “I’m so sorry… for everything. Your mom—”

He shoves me back as if my touch repulses him.

Just the way I did.

Twice.

“Who let you in?” His tone is as biting and unfeeling as the broken pieces of glass on the floor. “Get out.”

I close the gap once more and beg, “Nova, please.”

“Leave, Rosalie.”

I flinch at him saying my full name. He couldn’t have treated me more like a stranger trespassing on his turf. He’s grieving, I tell myself. His reaction is justified. I’m the enemy. The woman who betrayed his trust worse than any other soul in the world. He gave me his heart and I crushed it.

I deserve it.

He needs me more.

Turning away, he inhales another puff. I know he quit the habit for me. Not once during our marriage has he touched a cigarette. Yet in one night, he’s broken two of his vows to himself.

“I’m so sorry.”

Reaching him, I wrap my arms around his torso from behind. He doesn’t react. No breaking down. Turning around. Or wrapping his own arms around me.

“Leave.”

“No,” I say to his back. Still strong and powerful but carrying the burden of his mom’s passing. I can’t even imagine the tangible hurt and abandonment he must be feeling. I’ve never lost someone close to me in a way that’s forever but the thought is enough to bring me to my knees. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”

“Why? ’Cause my mom is dead? Or because the only woman I loved besides you is dead?”

Loved?

I always thought he’d be breaking us yet it’s me who wrecked and shattered what we could’ve been. Am I too late? The drowning sensation rises.

“I’m sorry,” I recite repeatedly as if it’ll make a difference. Laying my hand in the middle of his back, I slowly confess, “You were right, Nova. I was—am—hiding truths from you that I can’t yet say, but please, trust me. I’m going to make it right. Just give me time, please.”

“Make everything right?” He whips around, crushing my wrists in his grip. The pain doesn’t even register as he yanks me close and growls in my face, “You need time? I’ve already lost it all. You fix what is broken. I’m past the point of broken and damaged. Hell, I’m not even left with pieces to put anything together.”

I study his face, shrouded in darkness, and know I have to give him something before I lose him completely.

“My uncle is alive. My father faked his brother’s death after the incident with me,” I spill, a desperate attempt to make him believe me. “I couldn’t tell you that day because he was watching us and listening through the cameras in my room. I had no choice but to push you away, Nova.”

When he stills as a statue, I hold my breath, wishing and praying he believes me.

His brown eyes remain as cold as ice.

A cruel smile lifts the corners of his mouth.

I die in that moment.

“Really, Rosalie, still manipulating me?” He coldly scoffs, dropping my arms and scrubbing his hand over his jaw. “People don’t return from the dead. Your uncle is nothing but ashes and dust in the wind. I looked him up through an investigator the first time you told me. At least you were smart enough to mix some truths within the lies.”

“I’m not lying, Nova. I ran into my father at the port when I took your mom there and he forced me to go home with him. I told him I wasn’t going to meet his demands and continue feeding information about your family but—” I swallow the palpable fear. “—then he revealed uncle and I… I panicked. They were going to hurt mom and Jasmine if I didn’t do their bidding. You have to believe me. You don’t know my uncle. He’s unhinged and psychotic.” Dejection sinks in my voice. “He and Dad have been keeping me locked up.”

“How come they let you come to me then, huh? Since they’re blackmailing and keeping you locked up. I’m not that drunk to believe such made-up lies.”

I fought the urge to shake him and make him believe me.

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