Page 195 of Never Die for a Sinner
But I don’t have him.
“That’s not enough,” I whisper.
Paulina exhales slowly, and for the first time since I met her, there’s no smugness in her expression. Just sadness. A hollow sort of regret.
We sit in silence. A shared, heavy acceptance settles over the room like a cloud of dust.
It’s a clean slate. A new beginning.
God, I need that.
“How is he?” The words tumble out before I can stop them. It’s the only thing I’ve wanted to ask since she walked in.
Paulina studies me, and then finally—finally—she answers.
“He’s hurting, Ava. He’s broken. I’ve never seen him like this. He won’t say he misses you, but it’s written all over him. I can see it.”
I wish she hadn’t said that.
“Goodbye, Paulina.”
I stand abruptly, heading for the door before the ache in my chest can turn into action. Because if I stay here, I’ll go to him. And I made myself clear—he and I are through.
“When I became the caretaker for my niece and nephews, I had no idea what I was doing,” she says, voice quiet behind me. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes. But my biggest regret?”
I turn, just enough to see her watching me. And for once, there’s guilt in her eyes. Real, human guilt.
“Being an asshole?” I offer dryly.
She ignores me. “I was too easy on him.”
I blink, stunned. “Excuse me? He was beaten by his father his whole life. How is that ‘easy’?”
“I let him shut everyone out,” she says, her voice cracking. “I thought I was protecting him, giving him space. But I was enabling him. I should’ve made him talk. I should’ve helped him face it instead of hiding from it.”
I shake my head, that familiar dread creeping over me like a storm tide. “You didn’t know.”
“Don’t give me excuses, Ava. I was too busy to see how his father was hurting him. And now? He destroys everything he loves.”
A tear slides down my cheek before I can stop it.
She stares at me, long and hard. Like she’s peeling back layers I didn’t even know I had. I feel stripped bare beneath her gaze.
I swallow over the lump in my throat, tears stinging in the backs of my eyes.
“What’s done is done,” I say hoarsely.
It sounds final. Heavy. Like a door slamming shut in the distance. And maybe that’s what this is. The end of something I’ll never get back.
Will I ever feel again? Will I find anyone like him?
A quiet voice in my mind whispers,NO. And my knees almost buckle under the truth of it.
Even if what Paulina says is true . . . Even if he’s hurting . . .
There will always be something missing.
Something lost.
