Page 212 of Poison Vows

“The day after you disappeared from Westbrook Blues.”

Oh God.

“Emmett…” I trail off, the pain dragging me beyond its ravaging depths.

“I loved you then. I wanted to give you the world, but I was dying. The least I could do was make sure you and your children, and your grandchildren to the nineth generation would not want for anything.”

This is all too much.

His generosity is like a flood, great and immense, but the grief and loss are even more inundating than anything else.

“You were getting ready to leave me even then?” I whisper brokenly.

He’s silent for a while. “We were just kids, and I was angry and heartbroken. Because when you want someone as badly as I needed you but knew I had no chance at all without hurting you, the anguish is enough to kill you.”

I feel him wipe my tears, but I hug his midsection even tighter than before, wanting to fuse myself to him.

“So, you were suffering silently all by yourself just to spare me the grief of your death?” I grumble, the agony piercing my bones slowly. “That’s not how it works. That’s not how love works! I’m also dying, but that doesn’t mean giving up and shutting myself away when I could otherwise use the small time I have left to love you deeply, baby.”

I feel him tremble, but he doesn’t respond, almost as if he can’t speak. When he does, I fall apart.

“I didn’t know how to love you up close when I believed my existence was a curse.”

The sobs come crashing into me without warning.

“It’s you, Ivy,” he whispers hoarsely. “You’re the blessing. You’re the miracle. You’re literally my evidence that God exists. It was never about death when I called you Angel. It’s that you are literally my angel. So, if you’re gone, why should I bother? For me, that’s how it works.”

It’s too much. Way too much and I can’t seem to be able to take it as I sob in his arms.

“Money and words won’t make up for the pain I caused you in falling for me when all I did was reject you but Angel, as we fell over that cliff that cold ass night, I already knew I was dying. And I knew I had to honor the two conflicting demands I had,”

“What demands?”

“That night we met, you asked me what dying feels like,” he starts.

“And you said I should find out for myself.”

“What else did I say?”

“You said dying is no big deal.” I try to swallow around the ball of rusty nails stuck in my throat. “Not when you have someone.”

Our gazes are so locked in that I wouldn’t notice if the world fell apart in this moment and all was lost.

I just hold on to him, like he’s my lifeline.

“Yes,” he says softly. “It’s what you said after that destroyed me.”

I think I stop breathing.

“You said you didn’t have someone, not anymore,” Emmett says. “You broke me with those words that night, two conflicting demands rose up from my fucked-up heart.”

He raises a finger and starts speaking. “One. I needed to be your someone.”

I gasp, a shiver going down my spine.

“I needed to be youronlyone. I thought damned be to the one who was before that you had mentioned because that someone hurt you to the point where you wanted to kill yourself to atone for it, but I also felt relieved because my rightful position in your life as your someone, whether you wanted me or not, was now mine to take.”

My throat starts burning as a telltale sign of tears pricks my eyes.

---