Page 211 of Releasing 10
“You burn me,” I admitted, stroking her cheek. “In the best possible way imaginable.”
She seemed to think about that for a moment before asking, “Does anyone else burn you?”
“No,” I replied, wholly fixated on her face. “Only you.”
“Really?”
“I swear on my life.”
“Oh God.” Her chest heaved. “I’ve missed you so much, Hugh.”
“I’ve missed you more, Liz,” I replied, battling down the tsunami of emotions rising up inside of me.
“I’ve made everything a million times worse,” she confessed then, chest rising and falling quickly. “I broke my parents.”
“No, you didn’t,” I coaxed, shifting closer so I could press my brow to hers. “You didn’t break anyone, Liz. That was all him.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “Youbelieveme?”
“Of course I do,” I replied thickly. “And I am so damn sorry for how everything went down at the funeral.” A pained breath escaped my parted lips. “I wanted to go with you after the fight, I promise I did, but my parents forced me home.”
“Nobody else believes me, Hugh,” she strangled out, blue eyes widening. “But I’m telling the truth, I swear.”
“I know you are,” I replied gruffly, hating the tremor in my hand when I smoothed her hair off her face. “And that’s not true, Liz. Your parents believe you, too.”
“Only because they’re my parents,” she whispered, expression falling. “Only because it’s easier to blame him than me.”
“Why would they blame you?”
“Because I’m me,” she strangled out. “Because I was there and didn’t stop her.”
“How were you supposed to stop her?” I pushed in as gentle a tone as I could muster.
Lizzie blinked in confusion. “I stopped her?”
My heart cracked and I did the only thing I could in this moment; I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek before whispering the words, “I love you,” in her ear.
The events of that night were still a mystery, and I knew Liz held a lot more information inside her complicated mind than that lying bastard had given the authorities. The only problem was Lizzie’s memories were fractured, fragments that needed to be carefully pieced together, and only time could restore them. How much time, I had no idea, but if I pushed her now for more than she was capable of divulging, she would slip back inside her mind, and I would lose her again. I refused to do that because, selfishly, I wanted to keep her healthy more than I wanted to know the truth.
“Your nose,” she whispered then, focusing on my face. “Your eyes.” Her breath hitched. “You’re bruised all over.”
“I’m grand.” I dismissed her words with a smile. “You should see the other fella.”
“Who hurt you?”
“No one, Liz.”
“Was it me?”
“You?” My brows furrowed in confusion. “No, Liz, of course it wasn’t.”
“Oh.” She seemed to heave a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry for something you didn’t do,” I told her, capturing a rogue tear with my thumb. “Besides, I’m the one who should be sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“For leaving you after the funeral.”
