Page 28 of Selfish Desires

Vincent grimaced. “So, first, those pictures of me and Cindy started to pour in. And I knew I’d have to come clean to you about it, and I wasn’t scared to. I knew I’d be able to explain to you the situation, and together, we’d be able to work through it. At the time, my biggest fear was you thinking that I was cheating on you.” Vincent pointed to one picture of him impaling Cindy while she was on all fours, clawing at the crumpled bedsheets beneath their sweaty bodies.

Seeing Vincent fuck another woman didn’t flip my stomach, increase my pulse, or affect me at all, really. When my eyes shifted to a photo of me walking into a department store buying a dress for Blair’s wedding, that was when my blood ran cold.

“The pictures of you sent me over the edge. And the notes saying how I took everything from him and how it would be my turn to lose everything.” Vincent’s tone darkened. “And the thought of anything happening to you made me lose it, I guess.”

“You guess?” I leaned forward, our lips inches apart, but I had no intention of kissing him.

“I did.” Vincent rocked back on his heels. “I absolutely did, and when I realized you were in danger and I was the reason, I just knew I couldn’t stay.”

“Why couldn’t you have stayed? We could have worked through all of this together.” The center of my forehead throbbed, and while I should have been furious with Vincent, a part of me wanted to grab him, touch his skin, and breathe in his scent. I wanted that last night back again and for it to end the correct way. The burning shame went straight to my face, fire flooding my cheeks and chest. Red blotches peppered my bare skin above the neckline, exposing my inner turmoil. Vincent’s eyes fell to my skin, noticing my vulnerability, but he didn’t expose me further.

“Because I couldn’t risk it. I tried everything, and I couldn’t find Lawrence. The more I searched, the threats only grew worse. One even said how he was going to torture you,” Vincent said quietly, his gaze meeting mine again, a pool of emotions swirling within their depths. “I couldn't risk losing you.”

“But I lost you anyway...” I whispered, the words caught in my throat. It was heartbreaking to think that he had left, not because he wanted to but because he felt he had to protect me.

“Yeah, you did.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, dropping his head to face the floor.

“Why did you choose to leave me the way you did that night?” My heart lurched, and a lump formed in my throat. Just remembering how broken and wrecked my body was after. My legs buckling when I tried to pull myself up from the cold mattress, nearly sending my heart bursting through the bones in my body. “You could have at least taken the blindfold off. You didn’t have to be so cruel.” As harsh as the words spilled from my soul, it was also freeing. For years, I imprisoned the details from the night in a cell I only held the keys for, but who was I waiting to tell them to? And then it hit me. The answer was right in front of me.

“I had to.” Vincent lifted his eyes, revealing the layer of glass sheathing his orbs. “I needed you to hate me. To think I’m a monster in such a way that you would never want to face me again. And then I would have the time and space to find this fucking asshole who was threatening to kill you. And I did. I did find him. I got this random, wacko clue that led me to him. I mean, I didn’t personally kill him. You know what I mean?” Vincent reached for me, his fingertips brushing my leg, and a jolt ran through my bones, straight to my heart.

“And you didn’t think to tell me this?” I asked, pulling my leg away from his touch. “How can you think that's fair?”

Vincent looked at me with sad eyes. “I didn’t want to drag you into my darkness anymore. In my mind, I was protecting you.”

“Is that why you're here now? Just to explain yourself?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

Vincent nodded. “Yes. But also, I’m here because… because I’ve missed you, Wendy.” His voice broke on the last word. Hearing him say my name again after all these years stirred something in me, a whirl of emotions and memories that crashed against the walls of my heart.

“Is that supposed to excuse everything? The threats on my life and then abandoning me, the silence for years afterward?” My words came out sharper than intended.

Vincent's face hardened, then softened. “No, Wendy,” he whispered. “Nothing can excuse what happened. And I’m not asking you to forgive me. I want to earn that part. I want to earn your trust back.” He sighed, tipping his back. “The only thing I’m asking from you right now is to find a piece of you that understands why I did what I did three years ago.”

I just stared at Vincent, the silence cracking between us. My eyes darted everywhere, trying to make sense of everything he confessed to me. Was he an evil person? Yes, he did terrible things to people in his past, but that was his past. My heart screamed he was a different person now. But how could I excuse his choices? His behavior? And if I did, was it coming from a place of strength or weakness?

Vincent squeezed his eyes shut as I watched a rogue tear escape from the corner of his left eye. The sight caught my breath because I had never imagined, or even believed, I would see Vincent cry. Suddenly, the walls of my heart crumbled.

I didn’t know how to react. How to respond. How to do anything really as my brain struggled to absorb the reason I had been waiting for all this time, and my heart urging me to believe him. My pulse thundered in my ears, and a cold sweat broke across the back of my neck. I was slowly losing it while trying to stay composed. Fuck myself and my life for sensing this pull in my body to go closer to him. To come one step closer to granting him a second chance. Even if it was for a second. Was I this weak?

“Wendy, I am so sorry.” His powerful hands landed on my trembling knees. “I just want you back so badly, but I know I don’t deserve you, and you don’t deserve someone like me. You are so much better, always have been and always will be. I am so, so sorry.”

“Stop saying that,” my gravelly voiced begged. I stared at Vincent through the blurred tears. “Please stop saying that.” I couldn’t hear it, but I needed to. My heart deserved to be healed, and my mind hated the choice it wanted to make. My hands covered my eyes, and soon, the tears fell, painting my cheek and soaking my hands. At some point, Vincent lifted his hands from my knees and wrapped his fingers around my wrists.

“Please, Wendy. Let me see your eyes. Just one last time?”

Slowly, I lowered my hands and revealed my bloodshot eyes, the tears still streaming. His own eyes matched mine, glistening with a mixture of sincerity and self-loathing. He reached out, hesitated, then brushed away the damp streaks from my cheeks. His touch was feather-light, a stark contrast to the forceful grip he once commanded.

“I hate this. I fucking hate this,” I declared with my wrists still trapped by Vincent’s vice grip. “I hate my life, Vincent. And you know why?”

“Because of me. And I’m so sorry, Wendy. Please let me make it up to you. I’ll do anything.” Vincent pulled me closer, our mouths impossibly close. Close enough for his breath to coat my lips.

“No, Vincent, no.” I bit my lower lip, tasting metal. “I hate my life because you’re not in it.”

I was going to fix things with Wendy.

No fucking clue how, but with our mouths inches apart after being separated for over three years, I figured this was a good start.

“Because you're not in it,” Wendy repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. The four words sent shock waves through my system. My heart hammered against my chest like a drum while my brain tried to process the confession lingering between us. It was as if she'd handed me a live grenade with the pin pulled out, and all I could do was brace for the impact. “After all these years, I still want you. Why? Why do I still want you? How is that even possible? Am I that fucked up?”

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