Page 79 of Lie to Me

I sigh and roll onto my side, not even able to stay awake while he cleans me up.

“Where are we going? Am I dressed okay?” I ask Marco as I look down at the jeans and thick knit sweater I’m wearing. There weren’t many options to choose from, since he only packed me a couple of things to wear, all either casual or loungewear.

“You look perfect,” he says as he pulls me into his chest and presses a kiss into my hair. My head rests against him and I’m reminded of the tattoo that sits on his chest.

I need my necklace.

“What was that?” he asks and pulls away to look down at me.

Panicked about bringing up the most precious gift I’ve ever been given, that I basically threw away because it reminded me of him, I blurt out, “I was just thinking that some jewelry would go nice with my outfit.”

He raises a brow and looks me over. “Baby,” he drawls. “The only jewelry you’ll ever need is my hand wrapped around your neck and my marks on your skin.”

Well then.

He smirks at my obvious shock, grabs my coat, and helps me into it before guiding me through the house. This place is beautiful. It’s not as big as some of the homes in the area, but the four-bedroom house sits on a huge plot of land overlooking a lake with trees surrounding the area. The décor inside isn’t over the top, either, as you might imagine when looking at it from outside. It’s modern and understated. I love it.

“Who owns this place again?” I ask as I follow him from the bedroom.

“I do,” he murmurs once we reach the bottom of the stairs. Rather than heading for the front door like I expected, Marco uses a hand on the bottom of my spine to guide me towards the back patio doors and out into the garden.

From here, I can see a soft glow just ahead of us and I turn to look at him.

“What’s going on?” I ask, but in typical Marco fashion, he just grunts, grabs my hand, and pulls me towards it.

Once we get closer, I realize that he’s set up lanterns on the small pier-like area that overlooks the river where there’s also ablanket laid out with a picnic basket waiting for us, just like that night all those years ago.

“Marco,” I whisper, my voice breaking.

“You like it?” he asks, a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

“I love it,” I say before taking a deep breath and exhaling. “I-I—” I’m cut off as his lips meet mine in a passionate kiss.

“I know. I don’t need to hear the words to know, but I do need you to be ready to say them. I’m not in any rush, little warrior. I’d wait a lifetime for you.”

My heart swells as I hear the sincerity in his tone and see the truth in his eyes.

I’m not sure how I spent so long believing that the time we spent together was a lie, because Marco has always looked at me this way. He’s always looked at me with love in his eyes and an openness in his expression that he doesn’t have with others.

I nod and he leads me over to the blanket. He waits until I’ve sat down before he lowers himself down next to me and pulls my favorite soda from the basket.

“So, what are we doing here?” I ask and he chuckles before pointing up to the sky. I look up and see the sky littered in stars.

“You remembered,” I whisper. I always used to like going away with my family. Not because I particularly enjoyed spending time with my father, but because I loved getting away from the city and visiting places where I could see a starry sky.

“I remember every moment we’ve ever shared,” Marco admits, and butterflies swarm my stomach as he positions us so he’s behind me, my back resting against his front. He leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek before whispering, “Tell me more about what it was like living with your aunt.”

“It took a long time for me to get used to the heat,” I mutter, and he chuckles. “And while it was busy being in the city, it was nowhere near as chaotic as home.”

Home.

I think that’s the first time I’ve thought of New York being home again in years.

“Did you have friends? People you saw other than your aunt?”

I turn and give him a sad smile. “Not really. For so long, I was in too much pain to want to make new connections. Then I just kinda became the type of person to keep to myself. I think I kinda turned into you,” I say with a laugh, but he doesn’t return it.

“I’m sorry, Sloane. Fuck, I’m so sorry for everything. I’m sorry for what I put you through, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, and I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could lean on me when you needed to. I hate that you went through what you did, and if there was any way I could erase the past and do it differently, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

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