Page 43 of Kortlek

“I’m not going to ask,’’ he states, voice just as tender, “I won’t pry. But sooner than later, you’ll need to tell me, bunny.’’

He’s right. It’s one thing for him to keep me safe, but not when he doesn’t know what he’s keeping me safe from. The demons in my head are battling. If I tell him, I’ll have no dignity left. I’m ashamed of how I allowed myself to be roped into that abusive relationship.

I’m ashamed. I attempted to take my life because I couldn’t feel anymore. I’m ashamed of how it affected my family. I’m ashamed that my mother cried for me, that my brother cried for me. I’m ashamed that my father, one of the greatest men I’ve ever met, has turned to alcohol after that.

But the rational part of me wants it to be out and to tell Cove everything. Because I trust him. I’m not sure when the trust was formed. It could’ve been when I stupidly confessed my feelings to him; it could’ve been when he hugged me in the kitchen or anywhere in between — but one thing’s for sure. I trust Cove with my life.

He’s different from Wyatt.

I don’t know if I deserve it.

My eyes lift to meet his, and a breath gets stuck in my throat. Although his expression is as stoic and as cold as ever, there’s warmth in his eyes. I don’t want to dare even think it’s what I think it is, but as I continue to allow myself to be pulled in the depth of his eyes, I can see it.

Cove loves me.

He may not be able to voice it out, but he loves me. I know he does. I can see it. He looks at me the same way Arlo looks at Blair, the same way Dad looks at Mom. He looks at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world, and he’s scared that he’ll lose me.

My heart beats rapidly in my chest, swelling with emotions. A lone tear slides down my cheek, and Cove quickly brushes it off with his thumb. He cups my cheek, and my eyes close for a moment as I lean into his touch, the calloused hand on my face sending a wave of peace down my body.

Slowly, before I can change my mind, I open my mouth. The words start flowing straight out, the raw and unfiltered version of what happened between Wyatt and me. The emotions slip out, and I don’t try to stop them. Tears silently stream down my cheeks as I speak, unable to stop it.

Cove’s silent. He’s letting me talk it out, vent, and tell him everything that happened. Although he doesn’t speak, I can see the anger in his eyes. His arm around me tightens, pulling me closer. His jaw is clenched, eyes filled with hatred for Wyatt.

I choke on words, my tongue feeling heavy in my mouth. My throat starts closing in slightly, and it hurts to speak. Yet, I don’t stop, not until I’ve told him every little detail. Not until I’ve recounted all the nightmares I’ve had for months that followed our breakup, nor the monsters that are still inside my head.

They’re loud. They always tell me that I’m not worthy of love, and I’ve always believed them. Because on some level, they’re right. I’m a monster. Hell, I’ve killed people in more ways than I can remember. There’s no redemption for me.

At least that’s what I thought. But now, as I am seeing myself in Cove’s eyes, I can’t help but let my mind wander. My mind and soul are filled with him, and somehow, I come to the realization that despite the atrocious acts I’ve committed, there’s still hope.

Cove Steele is my redemption. If a spot in hell is reserved for me, I know it’s right next to his. There’s no possibility that anyone will separate me from him, not now that I’ve felt his tight embrace and heard the way his heart’s beating for me.

Once I’m done speaking, he lets the information linger in the air, absorbing and processing it. He sits up and pulls me into a sitting position, securing the blanket around my body, his hands gripping the soft material until his knuckles turn white.

“Jesus Christ, bunny,’’ he breathed out. “How many times did you try to take your life?”

“Just once,’’ I admit.

“How many times have you thought about doing it again?”

I stay silent and look away from him. Gently, he tilts my head upward to meet his eyes, refusing to let me look away. A flash of hurt passes behind his own, though he’s quick to mask it. However, the expression isn’t as stoic. It softens a fraction, getting my tainted heart to beat again.

“Are you still thinking about it?”

I shake my head. “No. I haven’t had those thoughts in a while.’’

Cove releases a deep breath of relief, his hands still clutching the blanket, but they’re shaking. His face isn’t telling me much, but the way his hands are shaking because of me spirals a deep sense of guilt inside of me.

“Bunny,’’ he says slowly, “if you ever think like that again, please come and tell me. Please don’t do anything to yourself. Just come to me, please.’’

The words spoken barely above a whisper tug on my heartstrings. Cove’s begging, his eyes pleading with me. He swallows thickly, and I’m compelled to nod. He’s searching for any trace of a lie and uncertainty. When he finds none, he responds with a firm nod of his own.

“Good.’’

His hands drop from the blanket, resting on my thighs.

“What do you want to do about that bastard, bunny?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

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