Page 76 of Beautifully Damned
“I want a divorce.”
His eyes flare with something I can’t name. Shock, maybe. Rage, definitely. But underneath it, fear.
Red floods his face, climbing his throat until it looks like he’ll explode. He drops his weight onto the bed. The mattress dips under him, and then he’s on me, pressing me into the sheets with the full force of his body. His breath is hot against my face.
“Don’t you ever say that again.”
“Why not?” I spit. “You already got what you wanted. You broke me. You made sure no one else would want me.Congratulations, Roman. I’m damaged goods now. No man alive would touch me after this circus. So what’s left for you? What’s left for me? Let me go.”
He shakes his head, his nose brushing mine. His eyes are bloodshot, alive with something unhinged. “I only want you.”
My body doesn’t believe him. My mind doesn’t. My heart—traitorous as always—wants to.
“I don’t want a divorce, Ayla. I’d burn the whole world to ash before I let that happen,” he roars.
“Why, Roman?”
“Because you’re the only one who ever made me feel anything other than hate. Because when you’re not near, it’s like I can’t breathe. Because every second you’re out of my sight, I’m half-mad with the thought that something could hurt you. Because my body doesn’t work for anyone else anymore. It only answers to you.”
The bluntness knocks the air out of me.
“I tried. After you came into my life, I went to one of my clubs. I wanted… I don’t know, distraction. I couldn’t do it. The moment you looked at me, you ruined me for anyone else.”
A tremor runs through me. Relief, ugly and sharp. That woman in the bathroom was lying. She had to be.
“You’ve damned me, Ayla. I don’t even know if this is love. Love feels too small a word for what this is. Whatever it is, it’s worse. Stronger. I’m obsessed. I only breathe when you’re near. I only laugh when you’re with me. Whatever’s left of me belongs to you, whether you want it or not.”
Tears slip hot down my face, and I don’t bother wiping them away.
“Don’t you hear me?” he asks. “Tell me you understand.”
“I heard you.” My voice comes out dazed. I sound distant, like I’m in a trance.
“And?” His eyes search me, waiting, desperate.
This is the part where I’m supposed to confess too. To tell him I love him back, that I’m ready to forgive, to surrender. But the words don’t come.
All I manage is a whisper. “Thank you, I guess.”
?ChapterL?
Roman
“Thank you.”
Two words, soft and harmless, yet they burrow under my skin and rot there. I bled myself bare for her, and she gave me courtesy. I bite the hurt down. She will not fall into my hands easily; I knew that the second I tasted her defiance. But Ayla… Ayla is a war I can’t afford to lose.
Every night I run through scenarios. Every day I claw at my own mind, searching for the one thing that will crack her walls. The answer never comes. I keep circling back to the moment it all started. The stable. The horse.
So, I smuggled him from the stable and put the best surgeons on him for her.
They say you can’t fix what you break. But they don’t know me.
I lead Ayla into the garden blindfolded. Her palm is in mine, small, and I savor it. I could keep her like this forever, wandering in the dark, relying on me to guide her.
“I don’t like surprises, Roman,” she whispers.
My lips graze her temple before I answer. “Patience, little angel.”
