Page 21 of The Amendment

I glanced down, then back up. “It.”

“It?” He was playing dumb, but I was game.

“What you did in that room.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, his face blanching. I felt his heart begin to race under my palm.

“No,” he said after a moment’s pause. “Of course I don’t. Why would you ask me that?”

“You told me it was an addiction. After you found my note. The night it all came out. You said it was like an addiction… Now you’ve given it up cold turkey. You must miss it.”

He looked away from me, pulling the cover up over his chest farther. “Why are we even talking about this?”

“Because we can.”

“Well, we shouldn’t.”

“Says who?” I challenged.

“Says me, Ainsley. What the hell are you trying to do? Start a fight?”

“No,” I said gently. “I’m not trying to start a fight or trick you. Of course I’m not. I just want to understand it—you—better.”

He snorted. “I think you understand me well enough.”

He had a point. “But not that part of you. Not the you who exists in that room.”

“You don’t want to know that version of me.” He still wouldn’t meet my eyes.

I gripped his chin, turning his face to look at me. “Peter, please…”

He resisted my pull, but eventually gave in. His face was red again, not from lying, but from pure shame. “What?” I heard the exasperation in his voice. “What do you want from me, Ainsley? You know what I’ve done. I haven’t done anything, haven’t hurt anyone since that night. Since Illiana. What do you want me to say?”

I sat up, leaning against the headboard. “I want you to tell me about it.”

“What about it?”

“Everything. What does it feel like? Who are you in that room? I want you to tell me everything.”

“Why?” He winced, shaking his head. “Why would you want that? I’m a monster, remember?”

“You’re not a monster,” I argued, feeling embarrassed by my lashing out that night. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was angry.”

“You were right to call me that. It’s…accurate.”

“It can’t be. I know you, Peter.” I didn’t believe it. Maybe some small part of him had monsterlike qualities, but more important than that, there was a man I loved sitting in front of me. A broken man. A man I could fix if I could just understand where the break was.

“You know a version of me. You don’t know what it’s like in there. What I’m like.”

“So tell me.” I just needed to get him talking. If I could get him to open up, I was sure we’d be able to get to the root of it all. What made him tick? What brought out the monster?

“I can’t,” he said, his voice cracking. He hated himself, and I couldn’t blame him, but he needed me to make this right. Somehow, I had to believe I could.

I gripped his arm, pleading with him. “Peter, we can’t be in this together if you won’t tell me the truth about everything. This is what’s driving us apart. This is what’s always driven us apart, even before I knew what it was. You keep this wall up between us in order to protect me from the truth, but I’ve known the truth for years and I’m still here. Can’t you understand that?”

He was silent for a moment, then pulled the covers off his legs and sat up, his back to me.

“What are you do—”

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