Page 19 of Billionaire's Sins
My heart begins to hammer; my pulse pounds at my temples. Hold on, what did I do wrong? I simply shared with her what I was thinking. Had I been wrong in that? Isn’t it best to be upfront in these situations? What had I said that could evoke such a reaction from her anyway?
"Ava," I head toward her, "You’re not acting in a sane manner. All I’m saying is, let’s be friends and talk openly when we meet."
"To hell with that." She huffs, "I don’t want anything to do with that, Father. You’re a…a…completely self-absorbed prick, as far as I am concerned. How can you be a priest and serve your people if you can’t even understand how it is to be in my shoes and be attracted to you…you…?" she heaves her bag over her shoulder and turns on me, "you who are already committed to someone else, and I can’t stop thinking of you? Do you realize how horrible that makes me feel? And then you have the nerve to tell me that I am your test? Your trial, your bloody experiment… And all so what? You can prove to yourself that you are perfect? Well, sod that," she turns and heads for the door, "and sod you, Father."
Stop her, go to her, explain to her how difficult this is for you as well.Explain that you realized if you couldn’t have any other relationship with her, being a friend could, at least, mean that you’d have her in your life. That you’d have a chance to, at least, see her, talk to her, hear her laugh again. Even though every moment in her presence brings home the fact that you can’t have her. Can’t be with her. Can’t have anything to do with her. And all those explanations earlier… Well, they are just rationalizations for my actions.
She wrenches open the door and I call out to her, "Ava, stop. Please don’t leave like this."
"I don’t want to stay on when I’m clearly not needed. Why did you come here, Edward? Why couldn’t you have left earlier?"
"Because I couldn’t." I shuffle my feet, "I had to…see you once more."
"But why?" She firms her lips. "Tell me, why it was so important that you meet me?"
"Because…" I take a step froward, stop, then fold my fingers into fists at my sides, "because I will not act on my impulses, Ava. I will not allow you or anyone or anything else to come in the way of my chosen path, and if that means I have to use you to make a point to myself, then so be it."
Color drains from her face, then she grips the strap over her shoulder even tighter. "Well, you know what? I am not a…a test…or a trial or an experiment… I am a living, breathing woman, and there are many out there who’ll take me for what I am, and cherish me and love me."
She hunches her shoulders, and the movement dislodges her scarf which floats to the floor.
"And I may have thought that perhaps there was a connection between us… And maybe I thought you might do something about it, that you’d, at least, be honest with yourself that it means something," she swallows, "something more than turning it into…this… Tool to prove to yourself just how strong you are and how perfect you can be."
A cold sensation stabs at my chest and my guts twist. What have I done? Why couldn’t I have listened better to her? Why couldn’t I have understood my own emotions more clearly? Why couldn’t I have been more receptive to what she had to say? Why did I have to go and mis-interpret everything? Have I, though? Am I really that off-target? Am I really incorrect in seeing this situation for what it is? A chance to find out how committed I am to my chosen path?
I widen my stance, thrust out my chest, "I’m sorry you see it that way."
"Me too."
She turns to leave, when I call out again, "Ava." I walk toward her scarf, pick it up and hold it out. "I think this belongs to you."
"Keep it. Perhaps it’ll be a reminder of what you refused to recognize between us." Turning, she walks out.
8
Ava
"He said what…?" Isla opens and closes her mouth. Clearly, she’s as shocked as me. Unlike her, I’ve had a few days to process what Edward had tried to convey to me. The gist of it was… Nothing comes close to the relationship he’s already consecrated with the One Above. I am a distraction. What had he called me? An irritant, someone who got in his way, someone he’d use as a means to test out how strong his resistance to temptation is.
"I mean, should I, perhaps, be flattered that he sees me as some kind of trial by fire?" I chew on my lower lip. "Maybe I should give him credit for trying to do what’s right?"
"Right for you or for him?" She huffs up the slope of Waterlow Park. We’re in my favorite green space is in the heart of London…not far from the house I am renting. It's a one-bedroom, tiny place, rundown enough that I could snag a short term let on my shoestring budget.
"Right for both of us?" I hunch into my jacket. A gust of wind blows the hair into my face and I push it away. "I mean, I do understand where he’s coming from… Kind of…"
"Do you…?" She turns to me, "You’re a better woman than I, Sherlock."
"Umm…isn’t that dialogue supposed to refer to Shylock?"
She waves a hand in the air, "Same thing."
"It’s not." I laugh.
"Just as it’s not cool that he actually mentioned to you that he wanted to be friends with you only so he could use you as a test."
"At least, he was open about it." I rub my hands together, then blow on them. Shit, it’s February but the weather shows no sign of improvement. "I mean, if he’d acted on impulse and tried to kiss me or something… Now that…wouldn’t have been cool, considering who he is."
"Do you want him to kiss you?"
