Page 138 of Oblivion

My entire body froze, and Dante held me tighter as if anticipating me pushing him away. I thought I’d known heartbreak when Paul disowned me, but that had nothing—nothing—on this.

I loved Dante, and his confession ripped my heart in two. Tears gathered in my eyes as I hugged him despite my agony.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he murmured into my hair, voice hoarse and strained, cracking with shame.

Devastated and angry, my head and heart tried to justify his actions. Technically, he hadn’tcheated.While I assumed we’d end up exclusive, we never got a chance to have that conversation.

Regardless of our relationship status, hurt sliced through me and wouldn’t ease its barbed hooks. Dante stared as if I was all of his hopes and dreams concentrated into one life form. His fingers tenderly trailed through my hair, then grazed over my cheek.

“You’re so damn beautiful. Without you, I feel like I would die.”

I gently pressed against his chest “You’re drunk, Dante.”

“No.” He snagged my fingers. “I mean, yes, Iam,but that doesn’t change me wanting to make you mine forever. I’m not letting you leave; move in with me, Penny. Permanently this time.”

I struggled to keep him on his feet when his stance faltered. Instead of declining his drunk ass, I shifted the focus.

“Let’s get back to my room and we can talk about it properly, okay?”

His voice sprang hope. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now, come on before I go back inside and beg Mei for a ride home.”

Dante scoffed. “Not with my niece inside her. It’s a girl, by the way.”

“You think?”

“Iknow.”

He plucked his duffle bag off the ground, then slung one arm around my shoulder.

I had to admit, for a man skunk-drunk, Dante walked as if he was stone cold sober—albeit, he leaned on me a little heavier from time-to-time until I gave him a nudge. We fell into silence, alone with our thoughts, as we made our way down the vacant street.

The wordless journey was interrupted by another of Dante’s aching confessions.

“You wanna know the real shit thing about this?”

I squeezed his hand tighter. “What’s that?”

“This weekend coming was the one I was meant to spend with the guys. One fucking weekend away. One fucking week after Forrest… He should still be here, Penny. He shouldn’t be fuckingdead!”

Dante’s yelled words echoed through the night. The absence of all other sound aside from his labored breathing wove a chill down my spine.

“He didn’t justaccidentallyfall from the repelling tower,” Dante spat. “There’s no fuckingwayhe would be complacent. It had to have been Ward. There was no one else up there with him!”

I frowned, confused. “Who’s Ward?”

“The bastard who got away with war crimes despite me and Forrest testifying against him.”

Shock left me speechless. I tucked myself harder against Dante’s side, only for him to break away and leave me standing in the middle of the sidewalk wondering what he was up to.

It became abundantly clear when he tossed his bag aside and strode over to an innocent mailbox, then started kicking the shit out of it.

I’d never witnessed a man so angry, so distraught, so out of control that his body visibly shook from meters away.

Careful not to get too close, I lingered at a safe distance and called his name. It was pointless. No matter how loud I yelled, or how many sidewalk pebbles I threw at him, he was unable to be snapped from the grief-induced rage.

Out of pure desperation, I dialed Jackson’s number. Thankfully, he answered immediately.

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