Page 40 of The Billionaire's Bride
Weston smacks me on the back of my head, and I wince, "The fuck, asshole?"
"Is that all you took away from this rather protracted and painful conversation?" He glares at me.
"If you want to tell me something, why can’t you guys simply come to the point?"
"The point," Sinclair arches an eyebrow, "is you need to come clean about your feelings."
"So, you may as well start practicing now," Saint adds.
"Now?" I grumble.
Damian and Arpad nod.
Weston raises his hand and I glare at him, "Don’t you fucking dare, you bastard."
"Oh, I fucking will, you douchebag, unless—"
"Unless?"
"Unless you spit it out."
"What?"
He claps me on the back of my head and I wince, "Fine, fine, I’ll say, it, I love her. I fucking love her."
I stare at Edward, who frowns back at me. Like that helped with anything.
"What a fucking mess," I mutter.
He narrows his gaze.
"Now that we have that out there." Sinner turns to Edward, "What are you two gonna do about it?"
14
Edward
"Why are you asking me?" I growl. "I am not the one who got us into this mess."
"Oh yeah?" Baron snorts, "If you hadn’t called me, I wouldn’t have come."
"If you hadn’t gone back on your word of not making contact with her, this would not have happened."
Baron thrusts his chin forward, "If you hadn’t—"
The sound of a whistle blows through the space and we freeze, turning toward Sinner, who glares between us. "Woulda, coulda, shoulda. You assholes know better than to spend time talking about what already happened. Question is," his gaze narrows, "what are you gonna do about it now?"
I glance at the faces of each of my friends. They regard me with expressions varying from curiosity to empathy to hope…. Fucking hope. It’s the one thing I don’t have. If she doesn’t choose me, I have nothing. I left the one thing that mattered to me, for her, and if she turns away from me… I pivot and face the window. "F-u-c-k." I bunch the fingers of my free hand into a fist.Don’t go there. Don’t even contemplate that. What you left behind… What you gave up… That’s not on her. It’s what you wanted to do.It’s not that I had been unhappy with my choice to join the seminary. It’s not that I had not been fulfilled. It’s not that I hadn’t found joy in helping others… Something which I hope I can still do.
It was more… The gnawing, aching, emptiness deep inside of me, the one that hadn’t gone away, even after weeks of retreat. When I had turned to Him for help, had spent days in meditation and prayer, searching for an elusive answer. And all I had found was temporary peace. One that went away as soon as I returned to my duties. When worshipping him and dedicating my life to others…still did not fill the nothingness that infused me when I went to bed.... Greeted me when I woke up the next morning, knowing that something was missing. And that restlessness had grown, until I’d met Ava and had been able to put a name to it.
Apparently, I am more human than I thought. More fallible, more vulnerable. I am not invincible. Hell, I’m not even cut out to be a man of the cloth. I know I need her to feel alive. Need her to help me get in touch with that part of me that I have hidden so carefully over the years. Need her to help me embrace the ugliness inside of me… For when I am with her, everything seems so possible. Yeah, she gives me hope…and it’s why I can’t lose her. I square my shoulders, then turn back to the silent room.
"We," I clear my throat, "we’re gonna come up with a plan."
"Thought that’s what you already did?" Sinclair arches an eyebrow.
"A real plan." I glance at Baron, who scowls back at me. "One that is fair for Ava. One in which neither of us is going to outdo the other. One which gives us both an equal…probability of being with her."
