Page 189 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
“You’re right.”
The admission drills another hole in my resistance.
His voice dips, lower, rawer. “And I’m sorry.”
Another word I never expected to hear from him. My knees threaten to buckle, and I grab hold of the doorframe for support.
“Tell me that you’ll hear me out, little one.”
I’m coming undone, beginning to spiral. Resolutely I square my shoulders. “Not if you call me that.”
He clears his throat. “Five minutes, Isla. And then I’ll walk away unless you ask me to stay.”
“That will never happen.”
“I accept that.”
I tighten my fingers on the chain. Five minutes isn’t mercy; it’s madness.
My mind screams,Don’t do this.But my body isn’t listening. I slide the chain free and take a step back. Scooping up Calypso on his way, he enters quickly, as if afraid I’ll change my mind. Which I would if my brain was functioning properly.
He seals the door closed and throws the lock, sealing usoff from the rest of the world.
Only then do I realize he’s alone. “Where’s Brennan?”
There’s the smallest pause, like he wasn’t expecting the question. “This is mine to handle. I fucked it up.”
So Brennan really had meant he was done with Dorian. Forever?
But this means Dorian will have no buffer. No one to translate his silences or soften his edges. It’s us, only us, and the pain I’ve experienced.
“May I sit?”
“No.” I shake my head. “You won’t be here that long.” I cross to the far end of the room and perch on the arm of the chair, putting as much space between us as possible.
Calypso abandons the rug, springs onto the cushion, then into my lap with a satisfied grunt. She kneads once, twice, and collapses against me, a warm, vibrating weight. “Your time is ticking.”
His jaw works once, and he doesn’t look away. “Lena was…a good person.” The words sound inadequate in his mouth. “Maybe a little naive. She was too young and innocent to have learned how ugly men can be. And I failed her.”
He pauses, swallowing deeply.
I should offer water or something else to drink, but I can’t. Knowing the time is counting down is the only thing helping me to survive this.
“I saw her get shot. Trying to get away, she ran back outside. Into the alley. And…” He looks off into the far distance. Then back to me. “I was useless.” His voice is hoarse. “God help me. I couldn’t make my body move.”
He glances away.
When he looks back, his face is stark with unguarded pain and recrimination. “When I came out of the trance, I ran to her, stayed with her until they took her body. And I hatedmyself for not being able to do something—anything. For not getting to her before she collapsed.”
“Dorian…”
“I’ll never forgive myself for not being the last person she ever saw.”
His words hook into a tender part of myself, a part I didn’t even know was exposed. My breath goes shallow, my ribs tightening like they’re trying to keep it in, but it’s already in my throat, pressing for a way out.
I don’t want to ache for a man who’s hurt me this much. And yet—God help me—I do. “You loved her.” With a shrug, I admit, “I saw the picture.”
“Yes.” His admission is raw and jagged. “With everything I had to offer.”
