Page 62 of The Billionaire's Cinderella

“Maybe you’re the fool,” she says with a sad smile. “I feel obligated to point that out to you.”

This one’s a tough nut to crack, boy. But she’s worth it. She is so worth it.

“You don’t get it. I have so much stuff inside me. Right here.” I thump my chest with my fist for emphasis. In my frustration, I do it hard enough to hurt. But nothing could possibly hurt worse than the way she keeps throwing bricks onto the emotional wall that separates us. It’s like she can’t lay those bricks fast enough. “It all belongs to you. I can’t wait to give it to you. It’s killing me to keep it bottled inside. But you’ve never given me half a chance. This whole time. Does that matter to you? Do you care?”

“Of course I care,” she says, her voice cracking at the end as she ducks her head and wipes away a tear. “I want to trust you. I want to believe you’re not like my father or my ex. I’m working on it. What more can you expect?”

What more…? “I want you to work harder. Faster. I want you to notice that I’m still here and I have no intentions of going anywhere. I want you to notice that my actions match my words. They always have.”

“So far, you mean,” she says stubbornly.

“Not so far. They always will.”

“Maybe you should rethink,” she says with a burst of humorless laughter. “Go out and find someone who isn’t tripping over the baggage from her past all the time. Your life would be much easier.”

I gape at her, astounded that she’d suggest something like that, even as a joke. Something so hurtful. As though she wants to get rid of me. I would’ve thought that my heart was bloodied and battered enough for the day, but no. Swear to God, it cracks in half at the sight of this misguided woman who’s so proud on the one hand and so fragile on the other.

“So you think I should walk away from the best thing that’s ever happened to me just because our relationship is bumpy sometimes? Is that what you’re saying? Is that what you’d do?” I ask.

“Of course not. I didn’t mean—”

“Tell you what,” I say, maxing out on my emotional reserves. I need to get out of here before my burning eyes and tight throat mushroom into an ugly scene that neither of us wants or needs. Before my frustration rolls out of me on an uncontrollable wave. “I know where I stand, but you need to think things over. Get your head straight. I just hope you do it soon. Because you’ve got my entire life on hold. And I don’t think you appreciate what you’re doing here.”

“What I’m doing? I’m giving us both a dose of reality, Ryker.”

“Your reality. Not my reality.” My voice booms off the walls. So much for keeping it together and not letting my frustration take over. “My reality is that I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. I don’t need you to swoop in and try to convince me I’m not or that I need someone better than you. Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean. You don’t get to let your pride and your fear ruin this between us.”

She seems stricken. “My pride?”

“Yeah. Your pride. You’re acting like you care more about what other people think about you than you do about our relationship. You’re acting like it’s more important for you to be right about your low expectations of me than it is to give me a chance based on the way I’ve treated you this whole time. Well, you don’t get to let your pride ruin my life.”

“That’s not what I’m doing, Ryker,” she cries. “It’s just that—”

“It’s not just anything! It’s not my fault what happened to you before I got here! Don’t you think I would have protected you from being treated like that if I could?” The absolute shock on her face clues me in to the fact that I’m out of control here. I take a deep breath, dial it back several notches and try again. “I know this isn’t just about me, but I want you. I can’t wait to tell you how I feel. I can’t wait for us to make a few things official around here. I want to give you everything. What do you want?”

“I want you,” she says helplessly as she wipes away another round of tears. “And I really want to stop feeling like everyone’s staring down their noses at me. I want to feel like I belong with you.”

“Ella,” I say wearily. Despite what she just said, I don’t get the feeling I’m winning this round. “We belong with each other.”

She hits me with a smile that’s sad and vaguely condescending. As though I’m some kid who needs obvious shit explained to him. Two plus two equals four, dumbass.

“I think you belong with someone more like you.”

“And I think you need to get out of your fucking head,” I say without hesitation. “Because you’re throwing me away for no good reason. And you need to wake up to the fact that it’s impossible for me to be happy—really happy—without you.”

---