Page 161 of Dirty Damage

“If you can believe that, then believe me when I say I’m not worried about getting pregnant. It will happen when it happens. We just have to be patient.”

She finally relaxes fully against me, her head lolling back on my shoulder. I wrap my arms tighter around her.

“I suppose maybe I’m projecting,” she admits quietly. “The thing is, the more I think about getting pregnant, the more I want it. I keep having dreams…”

“Tell me about them.”

She sighs. “I keep seeing this beautiful little baby. Gold eyes, like yours. Blonde hair, like mine. The sweetest smile you could imagine.”

“Boy or girl?”

“Boy,” she answers without hesitation. “He’s a little heartbreaker.”

“Funny,” I murmur against her hair. “I keep seeing a girl.”

“Really?” She twists in my arms. “I would have thought you’d want a boy. To carry on the family name and all that gendered bullshit.”

“Ishouldwant a boy, for all those reasons. But lately…” I pause, the words sticking in my throat. “I’ve been thinking about Oriana.”

She slides her hands over my arms, her touch achingly gentle. “What do you think she would have made of all this?”

“She would have liked you.” The admission comes easier than expected. “But she would have called me crazy.”

“Because of the contract?”

“Because of all of it.” I stare at the water, our hazy reflections in it. “She was a romantic. Believed in sappy shit like love at first sight and soulmates.”

“But you don’t?”

“No. I’m more practical.”

I have to be. Being anything else is as good as a death sentence.

I feel her slight exhale, the way her body seems to deflate against mine. “I suppose there’s something in being practical,” she acknowledges softly. “You don’t get caught up in sentimental gestures.”

“Elise can attest to that.” I huff out a laugh, remembering how angry Oriana and Elise were when I said all of this to them back then.

My sister called me a “heartless monster.”

We fall silent. There’s just the swish of the water, the easy rumble of my breathing and hers. I can almost hear Sutton’s mind working, weighing whether to ask what she really wants to know.

“Did you love her?”

I don’t have to ask who she means. “I suppose I did. As well as I could love at eighteen. I can’t tell you if it would have lasted. But it was real.”

“Then you’re lucky,” she whispers, and the brokenness in her voice makes my fists clench under the water. “I’ve never loved any man. And no man has ever loved me.”

Something in my chest cracks open.

The box that has been burning a hole in my desk drawer is in the pocket of my pants on the floor now. I thought it would be a good idea to give it to her, but now…

Would giving it to her only make her feel worse?

“Men havewantedme all my life,” she says bitterly, speaking softly like she wishes she didn’t have to say it at all. “Ever since I hit puberty, I’ve gotten attention. But no one has ever cared about me. It’s the Palmer curse. We’re desired, never loved.”

“That’s bullshit,” I growl against her hair. “The Palmer curse is fucking nonsense.”

She shrugs. “Does it matter now? My hands are tied. I signed on the dotted line.”

---