Page 75 of Dark Truths

The corner of her lips twitch. “You know, you three would get along if you just tried. You’re more alike than you realize.”

“Agree to disagree.”

Gabriella smiles at me then and the sight is like a breath of fresh air, unlocking the gate that keeps the pain from the last couple of days free. “Will you please come hold my hand?”

I step forward, eating away the distance between us before I finally take her hand in mind. She squeezes and I lightly squeeze back, running my thumb over the back of her hand, being careful to avoid the IV lines.?

“You know I’m not marrying Sophia.”

Gabriella chews on her bottom lip and glances down at our hands, keeping silent. I lift her hand and kiss the back of it. She meets my eyes then and the raw pain is clear in her unshed tears. “I’m. Not. Marrying. Sophia,” I speak each word in between kisses on her hand. “How can I convince you that I’m not?”

“Rose had a crazy idea.”

I place her hand down on the bed but keep hold of it. “What’s that?”

“That maybe we could…get married,” she says that last bit quietly under her breath, but I catch it and freeze.

The thought has certainly crossed my mind several times, but I’ve always struggled with the daunting question ofhow. There are just a few rather large things standing in our way - my identity and her family to name a couple. If we were to get married, she wouldn’t be marrying the real Dimitri, and I can’t bear the sight of her walking down the aisle to marry a lie. She deserves more than that.

“I’d love nothing more.”

“But?” she whispers, hearing the grim undertone in my voice.?

“But you need to know the truth.”

She peers up at me, her honey eyes damp with unshed tears. “I know the truth. You’re engaged to Sophia.”

“That’s not the truth I’m talking about.”

“Then what?”

“I want to tell you everything, angel,” I say, emphasizing my words with a squeeze of my hand. “But not here.”

She frowns and tries to pull her hand free. When I refuse, it only makes her more upset. “I’m tired of the excuses, Dimitri. You want to tell me, but you can’t. You want to tell me, but not here. Which is it?”

And here enters my insane plan.?

“Will you come with me somewhere?”

She just stares at me. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

“Okay, fine, I'll play. Where?”

“Somewhere private, where I can tell you everything without prying eyes or noisy ears.”

How serious I am finally seems to dawn her. "And you'll really tell me what's going on?"

"Yes."

Gabriella runs her eyes down my figure and across my face, as if assessing my honesty. It'll me a true test of her trust in me if she agrees to go with me without more context. "Okay." But she does.

With her help, we unhook her IV lines and get her dressed into a warmer pair of clothes. It’s a battle of stubbornness between her and me to convince her to sit in the wheelchair, but I quickly win when she nearly stumbles walking toward the door. Donning the white jacket again, I wheel her out of the room, peering out first to make sure our “friend” is still unconscious.?

“What happened to him?” she asks as we pass by his snoring body.

“He’s just taking a nap.”

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