Page 25 of That Emerald Vow

When he finally finishes, he looks down at me, and his face goes from the excitement of completion to absolute horror. He realizes what he did, but neither one of us wants to acknowledge it. If we did, it would make it real. Something passes in secret through our silence.

This is like every other time . . .

His eyes shine with sorrow and disgust at himself, and we both continue to not say a word as I wipe my tears and get dressed.

It took me a long time to come to terms with that night being non-consensual. I felt like a hollow shell, but refused to acknowledge it. It was not what I expected rape to feel like because I had experienced thatwith my uncle. There was pleading and screaming and sobbing. But this “gray” area, I called it—I wasn’t sure how to process.

Because the truth is, there is no gray area. I want it or I don’t. And I am allowed to change my mind at any point.

I bite my lip at reminiscing over the past because I feel safe again, but it’s also causing me fear of being hurt, yet again. Something deep in my gut tells me Damon is different though. He has shown me nothing but kindness.

I splash my face one last time with cold water, allowing it to cool me down. If it wasn’t for that damn oven timer, I think that kiss would have happened. And that may be something I want, but I don’t need to figure it out all right now. What I need to do is get back downstairs and allow myself to enjoy this moment. The rest, we’ll figure out in time.

Maybe it’s for the best that the kiss didn’t happen. We don’t want to further complicate all of this. Plus, like I told Lily the other day, maybe it’ll work out for her being a Fury and being with Adrian. I don’t think I’ll have such luck. I still don’t know how or when she’ll tell him. I don’t trust people in general, let alone with telling them my best friend and I are serial killing vigilantes. Even though I meant what I said about trusting Damon, I don’t think I can trust him with every broken and depraved part of me.

Maybe you can,says a small part of me.

Once I come back from washing the whipped cream off my face, Damon has finished plating all the food and has already started to clean up.

I must be giving off a worry-worthy look because Damon asks, “Are you okay? Your eyebrows are furrowed again.”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” I give him a generic smile as I help him clean up.

“What happened today, Char?” he asks, putting his hand over mine.

How does he know?

“What do you mean?” I ask.

Now his eyebrows furrow. “Before you left to go upstairs, you said you needed this. Why?”

My stomach ties in knots.How do I explain the crazy that is my family and life? Simple. I don’t.

I reflect it back on him as I pull my hand back. “How about you, huh? You said you’ve been better.” I’m not yelling, but I’m definitely snarky with my words.

His face turns stoic as he contemplates how to respond. After several painstaking moments, he says, “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

My mouth opens in shock. I didn’t expect him to give in. I really thought we’d both drop this and move on. “What?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he repeats. I can see the pained expression on his face. This is hard for him.I don’t have to share everything, right?

“You go first,” I say, hesitating.

He closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath. “Do you mind if we keep cleaning as we do this? This is . . . hard.”

“Sure. Of course.” I understand that idle fingers can lead to more anxiety, and this is stressful enough.

“I found out my mother has cancer,” he says. I’m in the middle of opening the bottom of the blender over the sink when I turn around to look at him, finding his back is to me. “Before you worry, we’re not close. She’s actually in prison.”

Prison? What the hell did she do?

“Now, what she did . . . that’s a story for another time. But I wasn’t raised in a warm, loving home like most.”I guess we have that in common.“It led to me making a lot of poor decisions growing up to make ends meet and provide for my little sister, Daniella. My mother was dangerous. She did nothing but buy drugs and sleep around in order tobe able to get high. Eventually, her bad decisions landed her in prison . . .”

Would he think I’m a dangerous woman too? Would he hate me?

He takes the rinsed-off blender and helps me load the dishwasher. I begin putting some of the things away in the fridge, allowing him the space to continue. “I recently found out that Dani has been in contact with her . . .

“I got a phone call from her yesterday that our mother’s lawyer called and that they’re considering a compassionate release.” Damon stops moving and lets out a pained scoff as he leans on the counter. “Compassionaterelease. Fucking bitch doesn’t have a single compassionate bone in her body. But she gets cancer and . . . and . . .” He chokes back an angry cry. I want to go to him, to hold him. But something tells me that’s not what he needs. At least not yet. He shakes off his emotions before continuing, “Anyway, I met my lawyer today to hash it out, and I think we have a game plan. But we have to wait a few weeks for the hearing . . . I just want to keep Dani safe. She doesn’t even know half of what my mother is capable of.” He goes back to wiping the counter down, but his body radiates with raw emotion.

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