Page 83 of Mine

“So, you’ve just accepted it?”

“If by accepting you mean becoming a self-loathing insomniac who destroys my daughter’s bedroom instead of my wrists, yes.”

“And by keeping anyone close to you under lock and key. Just like you’re doing to me, just like you did to your wife.”

“Precisely.” He looks up at me. “Yes, I get it. It’s a trauma response, but I don’t care. It’s the only way I know to keep you safe.”

“It’s unhealthy.”

“Almost as unhealthy as you pretending like you’re the one in control here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stares at me for a moment, weighing whether to continue. “Sabine, if you really want to talk, okay, but you might not like what I have to say.”

“Try me.”

“Your feelings for me are misguided.”

“That’s a bold statement. How so?”

“Your obsession isn’t with me, it’s with fixing me. You saw immediately how messed up I am, and instead of distancing yourself from me—as you should—you’ve become obsessed with fixing me.”

I open my mouth to snap back but hesitate.

He continues. “Do you know why? Because you still carry the guilt of not helping your mother, of your inaction the night of the break-in—when you were eight years old, Sabine.”

I go stock-still.

I think of all my broken ex-boyfriends, and how, in every single relationship, I stayed entirely too long. I labeled myself as someone whose weakness is trying to fix everyone, but it’s only half right. Astor is right. I stay because I feel guilty abandoning someone who needs help—because of what happened with my mother.

Astor takes my hand and pulls me to him. “You see, Sabine, you and I aren’t as different as you think. Our lives are molded by pasts we refuse to let go of, and our motivations and decisions are clouded by guilt.”

I stare down at him, tears welling in my eyes. “So, what are we going to do?” I whisper.

Astor pulls me onto his lap and gently cups my chin. “Kiss me.”

Forty-Nine

Sabine

“So, we’re going to just fuck it all away?”

Despite the incredible sex we just had, I find myself irritated that I allowed my lust for Astor to circumvent the problem, once again.

He rises onto his elbow and looks down at me, naked on the hardwood floor. “What do you mean?”

“I asked what we were going to do about us, and instead of answering me, we had the kind of sex that I’m pretty sure is illegal in most countries.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it when you were screaming my name.”

“I’m not being funny. I’m asking, are we just going to fuck away this gray area of us, or worse, pretend it doesn’t exist? And then what? Go back to our regular lives?”

He sweeps a strand of hair behind my ear. “Be patient with me.”

“Be patient with you?” I gawk, feeling heat rise up my neck. “Are you serious?”

I push off the floor and begin yanking on my clothes. My cheeks burn with embarrassment.

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