Page 191 of Never Die for a Sinner
God, I want to sink into him and forget the world exists. Go back to that cabin and spend weeks memorizing every detail of his body and soul.
It won’t be enough, though.
He lied. He hid the truth from me. He knew who my father was from the start, yet he didn’t feel like I deserved to know.
There will always be a part of him that he keeps hidden from me. Shunning me for reminding him of anything he deems off-limits. Refusing to accept that I’m not the bad guy in his story and merely the stupid girl falling completely, madly in love with him.
I rip my lips away, putting a hair’s breadth of space between us.
“Purgatory.”
He releases me as if I’d burnt him, and falls back, his hands fisting at his sides and his eyes wild.
In the time that I can remember since I met Levi, I’ve never seen that expression on his face. Uncertainty. Hopelessness.
“Try and leave me, Ava.” His voice is rough and unhinged, but there’s something else underneath it all. Something like pure fear.
“Consider this my resignation.” I keep my eyes trained on the wall. I can’t look at him now. If I do, I know I’ll break. “I don’t expect anything from you.”
“No.”
“You can hide behind your walls, Levi. I still see you. You’ll let me go because it’s what I want, even if it kills you.”
And then I leave him standing in the hall alone, trying not to break down before I make it to my room and lock the door behind me.
“Carry her in here.”
Christian lifts me like I weigh nothing, like I’m not completely falling apart. He carries me into their spare bedroom, laying me down on the bed gently. Mila trails silently behind him, her face pale, eyes wide.
She found me curled on the hardwood floor of my room, too empty to move, too shattered to care. I don’t know how she knew. Maybe something in her chest tugged the moment mine broke. Either way, she came. And I hate how grateful I am because I ruined their night.
When Christian steps away, I don’t even wait. I curl into myself like something wounded and small, wishing I could fold myself out of existence. My body aches, but not in any way anyone can fix.
I think I’m numb. Or maybe just ruined. His words keep playing in my head, looping like a cruel lullaby. But it’s not like it matters anymore.
I signed the contract. I agreed to the rules.
I just didn’t expect to lose myself along the way.
I didn’t think he’d tear my walls down so gently . . . and then obliterate everything left.
“Give us some space,” Mila says softly, her voice so careful it barely stirs the air. Christian hesitates, then the door clicks shut.
I hear her come over, the soft sound of her steps, then the dip of the mattress behind me. A moment later, arms wrap around my body—warm, steady, undeserved.
She holds me like someone who still sees something worth saving.
But I don’t feel worth saving.
Unlovable. Unworthy.
Disposable.
Trash.
“I’m so sorry, Ava . . .” Mila whispers, and her voice cracks like she’s breaking with me. But I can’t speak. My throat’s raw, closed. I can’t even beg her to stop being kind.
The only thing I can do is cry—quiet, helpless tears that slip down my face and soak into the pillow like they’ve been waiting their turn.
