Page 142 of Heart of Stone

“Krystina, sit down please. You’re going to wear a hole through my carpet.”

“I’m fine standing,” I told him, but stopped pacing. I rubbed my temples in an attempt to ward off the headache that was imminent.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Wine would be great right now,” I accepted without hesitation.

I would need it in order to get through what I was about to do. It was time to choose my path, and to do that I would have to lay it all on the line. Alexander’s response to what I had to say would determine the direction that I chose, as I had proved to be inept at maintaining a half-in relationship status. I would either be all in, or not at all.

Alexander opened the bottled wine refrigerator and quickly made a selection. Popping the cork, he poured me a glass of white. I took a huge gulp, and another until the glass was drained. I handed the glass back to him. He merely raised one eyebrow at me, and then refilled it.

“What’s wrong, angel? Tell me.”

Angel.

I liked when Alexander called me that, but I knew that only people that were dating typically used pet names. I wasn’t sure how we had gotten to that point, as I couldn’t even say that we were an official couple.

“I’m miserable because I feel like I constantly have this battle going on inside my head,” I confessed. “I’ve been thinking a lot over the past few days and I’ve come to a conclusion. This thing between us cannot continue like it is. Something needs to give here.”

He cocked his head to one side, a look of confusion plain on his face.

“What are you trying to say?” he asked cautiously.

“Look, I’ve tried keeping separation between us, but it isn’t working. I had this fantastic idea that I could somehow just have sex with you and want nothing more. It was a foolish notion, on both of our parts. Your history with one-night stands probably worked to keep out emotional attachments in the past – but that isn’t what we are. It’s not who we’ve become. We’ve far surpassed that and the more time that goes on, the more I want. It doesn’t matter how much I fight it.”

“So don’t try to fight it then,” he stated simply, as if it were so easy.

“You don’t want me to? I mean, you want more than just the sex, too?”

“You’re not the only one navigating unfamiliar territory,” he ironically admitted. “Long-term has never been in my vocab until I met you. At first, I thought I could manage a steady dominant submissive relationship with you. But you’re not built for it and it’s not what I want anymore. My ideals have changed. I told you that I don’t do teddy bears and roses, yet just yesterday I had flowers delivered to you. I’ve never done that for any woman before. I suggest we put away the idea of what wesaidwe wanted, and focus on what we want now.”

“I can’t do that,” I gravely said, shaking my head back and forth in denial.

“Then what’s the point of having this discussion?”

“Trust. I can’t focus on moving forward in this while we are both clinging to secrets.”

Alexander moved over to the couch and sat down. He ran his hands through his hair in a display of obvious frustration.

“Krystina, as hard as I try, I don’t understand you. I know that there are things in your past that you aren’t telling me. But whatever it is, it’s getting in the way of us. Sure, we are certainly unconventional compared to most, but that doesn’t explain why you continually push me away. If we have any shot at making this work, you need to either tell me, or get past whatever it is that’s holding you back.”

“That’s not fair. What you’re saying goes both ways.”

“You’re right, and I knew that you’d say that. But you have to understand that there are some things that I can’t tell you because they involve others. I can’t tell a story that’s not completely mine to tell. I think that you’re only hell bent on unlocking my past because you are desperately clinging to yours.”

“I am not,” I said stubbornly.

“Really? Then why can’t you let go enough to tell me?” he challenged.

I walked over to where he was sitting and looking down into his eyes. As I stared into those vibrant blues, I knew he was right. To build any sort of foundation, he needed the truth. And perhaps, if I gave in first, he would open himself up to me.

I took a shaky breath, trying to gather courage to dispel my apprehension.

“Alright,” I gave in. “I’ll tell you. But I can’t say that your knowing will make any bit of difference. In the end, my past defines who I am today. I can’t change that.”

“Go on,” he encouraged patiently.

“When I was still in college, I dated this guy for a couple of years. I’ve mentioned him before – his name is Trevor.”

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