Page 40 of Beyond the Cottage

“Please. Let me get this out once. One time, then I’ll never bother you with it again.”

The rain picked up, pelting the roof.

“Is that a promise?” she asked.

“Yes.”

After a moment, she sighed and leaned on the tower’s outer wall. “Alright. Get it over with.”

Ansel’s eyes begged her to look at him. She inspected her ponytail, pulling out a loose hair.

“I’m a piece of shit.”

She glanced up and worked to get the clinging hair off her fingers.

“I think I have been for a while,” he said. “It’s not that I enjoy it, I just stopped caring. After I lost you…I don’t know. It was like nothing else mattered.”

She shifted against the turret, crossing her arms.

“That’s not an excuse,” he said quickly. “And I’m obviously not blaming you. But I want you to know that when I think about what I did to you… Gretta, I can barely live with myself. I don’t know how I’m going to go on waking up to this, knowing I’m the thing you most needed protection from. If you asked me to throw myself off this tower, I would, and I’d do it with a fuckingsmile.”

Brow raised, she finally met his eyes. “Is that it? Are you done?”

“Please,” he said, rushing to her, dropping to his knees. “I’m not asking for forgiveness, just tell me you believe I’m sorry.”

“I do believe that. The problem is, you’re sorry for the wrong thing.” When he tilted his head, she scoffed. “You’re sorry for what you did to your precious Gretta, when you should have been sorry before you had any idea who I was.”

He had no defense, so he merely dropped his head.

Lightning flashed, illuminating them. The tower went quiet except for the rain, and he heard her sigh.

In a low, tired voice, she said, “I can’t believe it turned out like this. How the hell did you end up as the villain in our story?”

Groaning, he pressed his forehead to her stomach, and her palms settled on his neck. He didn’t think she realized she was doing it, but his heart pounded harder.

“How, Ansel?”

“I don’t know,” he said brokenly. “Shitty childhood, shitty blood? Shitty decisions, I suppose. Does it matter?”

She ripped her hands off his neck. “I guess it doesn’t. Not for much longer.”

It shredded him that she was right. Soon, she’d leave and forget him all over again.

Through all this, a single question plagued him. The answer might kill him, but even that would be better than wondering.

“I need to know something.” Ansel lifted his head, ready to hand her the proverbial ax to chop it off. “What’s the real reason you didn’t say goodbye?”

Gretta couldn’t speak.

She wanted to. He was on his knees, offering the perfect weapon to land the killing blow. A dozen lies came to mind, and she saw in his haggard face that any of them would destroy him. All she had to do was choose one.

Instead, the truth spilled out.

“My parents,” she whispered. “They didn’t like how we were together.” Disgusted with herself, she shut her mouth.

Why couldn’t she do it? His apology didn’t change anything. It certainly didn’t erase what he’d done.

He blinked at her. “Your parents kept you from me?”

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