Page 83 of Devious Delusions

“I was leaving the gym when she attacked me.”

My voice is barely audible as I repeat, “She?”

I rock against his chest and hide with my head under his chin as he nods, takes in a deep breath, and says, “Yes.”

“Was she ever caught?”

“No.”

It was me. I hurt him and he’s protecting me, so I punish myself and ask, “When?”

Air brushes the top of my head as he strokes my back and vaguely answers, “About f-fourteen years ago.”

Fourteen years ago.

Before we got married.

I stabbed him as he was leaving the gym.

That was just before I was admitted to the hospital and my memories of that time aren’t clear due to the mix of chemicals that were flooded through my body. But I wouldn’t have stabbed someone. I don’t think I would have. I wouldn’t hurt the man I love. Yet I’m still doing it now; the only difference is that he doesn’t know and there’s no scar he’ll be carrying with him when he finds out.

I just want to know who I am.

I try to hide in him and grab his arms, wrapping them even tighter around me. The hard shell covering shouldn’t be there and I turn my head to see what it is. There’s a cast wrapped around his hand leading up to his elbow. The residual numbness slows me down and everything sounds like it’s underwater.

“What happened?”

Asher’s reply is no different as I watch his face and try to focus.

“I told you the roof tiles slipped. I fell when I was fixing it and ended up with this. I’m not fifteen anymore and able to climb through the window as easily.”

“When did you tell me?”

My voice is distorted like someone is slowing it down and every blink makes me dizzy.

“That night when I promised to sit you on my face and eat my way to your heart,” he says and my vision blurs at the edges.

Knots form in my stomach at the reminder of that night. The night Ghost fucked me while Asher was on the phone unaware. Even now he’s not aware of anything and he softly kisses me and I cling to him.

I know I need to tell him the truth, but I just want the comfort and stability a little longer. He’ll hate me, rightfully so, and I won’t have time to prepare for his reaction, but he deserves to know the truth and he deserves to hate me as much as I hate myself.

He breaks the kiss and I keep my eyes closed as he kisses my forehead. His palm is warm against my cheek, and he slowly strokes his thumb side to side. A little longer I tell myself. I can drown in my self-loathing, then take his hate once I’ve memorized all the smaller details to keep me balanced.

Tears burn the back of my nose as I beg him to forgive me before telling him my sins.

“I’m sorry about ev—everything I’ve done to you.”

My voice cracks halfway through and he turns rigid.

“What have you done to me?” His voice is stilted and my eyes open to see all of his anger directed at me. His nostrils are flared, jaw tensed, and a crease forms between his brows. It makes my throat constrict and this Asher is the one frommymemories. The anger and the violence are what I remember. But I haveto continuously remind myself that it’s not real, he wasn’t that person.

I still divert the truth in fear of it becoming a reality.

“I don’t even know anymore. I just realized that you’re not close to your family and you had to leave them to come home. How’s your mom?”

He doesn’t answer and stares at me. I blink to break up his search while he keeps his hard stare on my eyes. Whatever he finds stops the examination and he smiles softly. “Fine. She’s awake and told me to leave.”

I already know what answer he’ll give me when I ask him why his mother sent him away, the same one as anything relating to his family and I parrot it mentally as his lips move.

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