Page 40 of Salvation

Wesley…while Wesley may have tried to protect me from Haden, he doesn’t have any room for me in his heart. Not truly. And this is…this is Marshall. While he has his faults, I gave him over a year of my life, and he gave me the same. There were moments so good that it’s hard to remember the bad. Hard to understand why someone I poured so much love into would want to hurt me. Hard to understand if it was ever intentional or just a mistake that could be corrected. But isn’t that the same grace I gave my father? The very thing I spent years running away from?

Why is it that we always chase and crave the things weknoware bad for us?

There was a time when he wasn’t just my boyfriend, but my friend too. There’s a battle waging in my heart, and he obviously notices my hesitation. “I’m sorry.”

I cross my arms, letting go of the door. “You’re sorry?”

“Please…just let me in. I just want to talk.” I sigh and look behind his shoulders, noting the lowering sun, and not seeing a car in sight. Meaning, that he got a taxi here. The idea was laughable because Marshall Donovan wouldn’t be caught dead riding around in something as cheap as a taxi. If anything, it was a power play. Intentional, so that I’d have to ask him to stay.

It works. Or maybe it’s just the wine making me act like a complete idiot. Because I don’t say anything, I just reach out to widen the door some more and leave him to follow while I go tomy bedroom. Suddenly, I’m overly self-conscious about the tiny top and oversized shorts I wear. I know he’s following me by the heavy thuds of footsteps, but I don’t say a word as I rifle through my top drawer in search of a t-shirt. I’m throwing it on as he walks into my room, which suddenly feels far too small with the two of us in here. “I got you your job back.”

“My job back?” I ask. “Myjobback? The one you fucked out of my life?” My words may have been harsh, but they came out less aggressive. More… tired.

“And I left her.”

“Is that supposed to make it better?”

“Of course not.”

An uncomfortable silence fills the air. I go to sit on the bed, facing away from him. I don’t look at him, finding it impossible to do so. Because I have a feeling the second I do, I’ll give into whatever he asks of me. Because forgiving is far easier than hurting. “You of all people should have known how much that job meant to me.”

He doesn’t waste a second coming around to kneel before me, taking my hands in his. It isn’t lost on me how soft they feel. How different they are from the rough hands that have seen and done so much more than sit behind a polished desk. “I did. I do. That’s why I’m here.”

I shake my head, still avoiding his gaze, but he pushes on. He dips his head so that he’s below me so that I have no choice but to look into his green eyes. “It meant nothing to me, baby. Nothing. If I could take it back, I would. But I can’t. So, I’m here. Promising you that I can do better. That Iwilldo better. If only you give me the chance. I want to be with you. Justyou.Forever.”

Forever. I almost laugh at the idea. Do we even want the same things? A quiet and cozy life? I’m not sure it’s even whatIwant anymore. But I’m twenty-four. My life wasn’t perfect in the city,but it was good. As good as it would get for someone who came running from a sleepy, dead town and had nothing but a shit background to her name. I built that life for myself. I earned it. After everything I’ve been through, I deserved it. Didn’t I? Now, I wasn’t so sure. Part of me wanted to cling to the idea that I did so damn bad, it felt like I was finally saying goodbye to everything I worked so hard for if I finally cut ties with Marshall. “I…I need to think about this.”

He looks like he wants to argue but thinks better of it at my expression. “I…I can work with that.”

I nod, and the air becomes thick with silence. He abruptly stands, straightening his shirt. “How about I make you some tea? And we watch a movie?”

“That sounds nice.” I give him a smile, one that feels too forced.

Chapter 41

Blake

My phone dings from the kitchen island, and I reach forward to set my mug on the coffee table, excusing myself to go check it. “Need anything while I’m up?”

I’m dumbstruck when his eyes roam over me in a hungry and fervent way. Although Marshall hasn’t made any moves on me since we’ve cuddled up on the couch to watch a show, I can’t tell if I’m surprised or relieved that it doesn’t heat me the way it would have just months ago. Now, it just feels more overbearing. Oppressive, even. Carrying a weight that feels intrusive, as though expecting submission rather than my reciprocation.

Currently, I’m in an overly large T-shirt and basketball shorts. Something I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing in front of Marshall when we were dating. He often was only impressed by the silky little things he’d buy me. But this is my home, and he’s the one who showed up unannounced. He’s embarrassed meenough; the last thing he deserves is to see any more skin than this outfit allows. He shakes his head, "All good."

I nod and walk toward the kitchen, ignoring the way I feel his gaze burning a hole into my backside.

Viv:

Did you see this?

*Attachment: 1 Photo*

What a douchebag!

You have no idea.

My phone continues to blow up, Viv hounding me with questions, but I ignore them. Letting my eyes jump from the photo Vivienne sent to the man on the couch, who’s now watching the TV with rapt fascination. The rage seeping into my vision is blinding. How dare he come here and beg for my forgiveness after what he put me through? Only to turn around and throw it right back in my face?

I do the only thing any woman would do. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and count.

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