Page 40 of Kept By The Agents

If she cried, I was going to lose my shit. "Okay. Look. I'm an idiot."

She didn't correct me. Crossing her arms over her chest she waited.

"I have a lot of shit to apologize for." She didn't seem impressed. "I'm sorry that I left. That I went without talking to you first." I was on a roll, my voice raising with each word. "I'm fucking sorry that I watched you from afar for all these years. For everything I've done while we weren't together." Her eyes widened at that admission. "That I didn't have the goddamned balls to go back and man up and get you back. That it took coming here and basically kidnapping you to apologize and admit I was wrong." My chest was heaving by the time I was finished and she still hadn't said a word. Hadn't moved an inch.

She was completely still. The quiet seeped in around us and I thought maybe I would go mad with thoughts of everything I'd just spewed out while she sat there absorbing it all.

"Thank you."

My brows shot up and I dropped the hands I hadn't realized I'd raised and been waving around while I blew off steam.

"Why?" The word came out soft, less demanding and more pleading.

I knew exactly what she was asking. Why had I left her? Left her alone all these years. "Once I went, I couldn't bring myself to come back and face your disappointment."

"But why did you go in the first place?"

"I…met someone the night before at my bachelor party." Her mouth dropped open and hurt flashed in her eyes. "No, no, not a woman. Though there have been women over the years," I admitted. She didn't seem surprised. "But this was a man." Now she just looked confused. "He offered me a chance to join the CIA."

Her gaze slid off mine, staring at the floor. "You gave up a life with me for a job?" When our eyes met again there was outrage there. "For a fucking job, Darro?"

"It's not just a job, Cat." I searched for a way to explain it to her. "I had nothing to offer you. No career path. No house. Nothing but college debts and a life of struggle to make shit work."

"I never cared about money," she snapped.

"No, you didn't. But I did. I wanted to take care of you. And…I was afraid that I was making a mistake."

"By marrying me."

"By getting married at all." She clearly didn't like hearing this, but it was the truth. And it was the reason I'd gone so long, refusing to see her, because of the hurt and anger I was causing. As if I hadn't done enough damage the first time around.

"You should have just told me."

"I was a kid. A stupid kid."

"You derailed my life," she said, eyes boring into me. "I was set to marry the man I loved. Ready to build a life together. I thought we'd figure it all out together. What jobs we wanted to get. Where we wanted to live. How many kids we were going to have. And all the while you were running away from all of those things. Because you didn't want to do them with me."

"That's not true. I-"

"Save it, Darro," she snapped, cutting me off. She stepped in close and drilled a finger into my chest. "It's obvious. We were together for years, and you didn't seem to have a problem. You were the one who proposed to me. Then you just walked off and left me in the dust. You've been partying your way through life, sleeping with any and every woman who would spread her legs for you. You wanted to keep being a kid. And you didn't want to marry me."

"How do you know that? About the partying and…?"

"You think you're the only one who's been keeping track all these years?" she snapped. Her chest was heaving and she was once again fighting back tears. She seemed to realize that she'd lost her cool and pulled her finger away. Retreating from me, she shook her head, irritated with me, and maybe herself. She had tried to play this cool and detached and she'd just slipped.

I rubbed the sore spot on my chest. "You've got it all wrong, Cat. I've always wanted you to be my wife. I just thought I'd lost my opportunity. I would have eventually come back," I told her, and saying the words, I realized it was the truth. Another one of those things I'd refused to acknowledge.

She snorted in disbelief. "You're thirty-two years old, Darro. I'm thirty. When were you planning on making me your wife? When we were in our sixties? Once our life was over?" She made a sound of disgust. "Besides, what if I'd gotten married?"

"You didn't."

Anger flashed over her face. "Yeah, because I don't trust men anymore! Thanks for that." When I opened my mouth to continue she pointed at the door. "Get out."

"Wait, what?"

"Thank you for telling me and finally alleviating the guilt that I'd somehow pushed you away. And thank you for your apology. I forgive you."

"You…do?"

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