Page 87 of Prohibited

“Is that the phone call you got today?” she said, pulling her face back to look at him. “You and Alex were talking–"

“Yes,” he said with a finality that he hoped she would accept.

She nodded and let her eyes drop. Ryan’s fingers drifted up to her hair, stroking it out of her face. A stab of remorse went through him as he caressed it, soft as rabbit fur.

“I’m sorry about your hair,” he said quietly.

“I think I probably deserved it,” she said, voice heavy.

“Stop talking about deserving,” he said, voice sharp. “Evelyn, I shouldn’t have– Alex shouldn’t have– I was just so angry– And I thought you–”

A hideous feeling seized him, turning his throat to barbed wire and his jaw to lead. He gritted his teeth and held onto her so tightly that she gasped.

“I’m sorry.” He hated the way his voice twisted. How weak he sounded. How frail. He swallowed the ache in his throat. “I’m sorry for everything. For what I did to you. For what Alex– That doesn’t make up for– But I am–”

“Don’t,” she said softly but sharply. “Don’t.”

“But you–”

“Shh,” she said, slipping her fingers into his hair, soothing him gently. “Let’s not compete to see who’s sorrier.”

Ryan pressed his face into her hair and swallowed again, forcing himself to calm, to push back the ferocious swell of emotion that was threatening to drown him.

“I’m sorry I never wrote you back,” she said, voice muffled, catching him by complete surprise. He had never expected her to bring it up.

“Why didn’t you?” he said, trying to sound neutral, voice still hoarse.

“My father said he would have you killed,” she said. Simply, sadly. “If I ever spoke to you or saw you again. Hemeant it. I couldn’t leave the house without a chaperone until I left for New York, just to be sure. And then after I got there, well… I guess I thought you’d probably forgotten about me by then. But I kept them. Your letters.”

Ryan scoffed. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because–” She broke off as if she didn’t dare say it.

Impatiently, Ryan lifted her chin again so he could see her face, though she wouldn’t look at him.

“Because?” he prompted, trying to sound indifferent but he couldn’t keep the touch of apprehension out of his voice.

She swallowed and stared at the ground. “Because I loved you.”

“Funny way of showing it,” he said, without venom. Then, unable to resist any longer, he kissed her again, craving the taste of her. The scent of her. How it soothed the ache in his chest.

“Did you ever love anyone else?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he said quietly.

With some hesitation she said, “A-Alex?”

A stab of shame and anger went through him. That she would dare bring it up to him. As if he wasn’t the one to do it in front of her. He tensed, ready to move away. But she sensed his anger and held onto him more tightly.

“No,” he said, shortly, making her wish she hadn’t said anything.

Wisely, she changed the subject.

“I never forgot about you,” she said, voice trembling with her sincerity. “Never.”

He swallowed audibly and looked at her, loving the earnest expression on her face as he caressed the perfect angle of her jaw. “I never forgot about you, either, Evelyn.”

And they kissed again, drenched in the scent of apples and the ache of nostalgia.

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