Page 135 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

But that was the less scary of the two options. Because the scarier one was that he would let me in and give me exactly what I asked for. That he would keep me.

I can’t do this.

I have to do this.

Let me go. Don’t send me away.

I finally pulled into his driveway simply because I was tired of driving, and I sat there for a minute trying to collect myself. What would he expect of me? He said I would have to “give him my submission” and I wasn’t sure what that meant. But I had an idea in my mind reminiscent of the story he had told me of the first time someone had offered themself to him, and I was pretty sure that would be enough.

This is such a bad idea. He said he wanted to talk and explore this. He said I could come up and stay with him for a few days, not forever. You’re throwing yourself into a fucking black hole.

I thought back to what Megan had said.I had neglected myself for so long, convinced myself of the lie that I’d never have another chance...

I knew what I wanted.Swallow me whole, you dark, beautiful man.

“Last chance,” I whispered, and forced myself out of my car. My feet moved on their own, slowly, towards his front door. I wanted to run the other way... but I couldn’t. I had to do this. I had to give myself another chance.

Hand shaking, I knocked on the door. A moment later it opened, and Reuben’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw me.

Neither of us said a word. He stared at me in surprise, his eyes softening. He let out a long deep breath, and then stepped aside.

A fresh wave of tears escaped my eyes as I walked past him, and I heard the door click shut behind me.I wish I wasn’t so overly emotional, crying all the time.But Reuben had never once told me to stop, nor did he ever seem to be bothered or offended by my tears. He wasn’t going to start now.

He took my coat, draping it over the chair by the door. I kicked my shoes off since he was barefoot.

Standing in the entryway of his house, he looked at me, arms hanging limply by his side, as if they weighed too much for him to deal with right now. I stood in front of him, hands behind my back, balled up into fists. Staring up into his eyes, I saw hesitation... or nervousness? I was too emotional to be able to read him. But I knew he wasn’t sure why I was here.

“Alice.”

He whispered my name, like it was something precious, something special to be treasured. I saw his hand twitch like he was going to reach for me, but he hesitated, and tucked his thumbs into his slacks.

I regret so much.

I am not a good person. I am not good for you, and I won’t be good to you.

I’m too broken for someone as good as you.

I don’t know how to do this without breaking it.

Help me. If anyone can help me, it’s you. If anyone can handle me... it’s you.

There were so many things I could say, but none of them were what I was trying to say. None of them were what I was asking. And I knew if I opened my mouth and word vomited all over him, the only thing it would get us was confused.

So I did the only thing I could think of. I brought my hands out from behind my back, fists clenched, wrists presented, and held them out to him, the way he had described to me when he was telling me about the day on the bridge.

His eyes widened in shock, staring at my offering. He didn’t move or breathe, his eyes locked on my exposed wrists.

Oh my God, he’s going to send me off. He’s going to tell me I’m crazy, or that this is too early, or that he doesn’t want me–

Without speaking, he took both wrists in his huge hands and led me into the living room. He positioned me directly in front of a chair by the fireplace, and then sat down in it across from me, leaning back in the chair and folding his hands in his lap.

His expression was guarded, but his intense eyes stared into mine like he was trying to tell me something. I waited in front of him, not knowing what to expect or what he wanted from me.

Please don’t send me away. Please tell me I didn’t fuck up too bad.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but he held up a hand. “No, don’t speak until I tell you to.” He continued to stare at me, calculating. I wished I knew what he was thinking. I wasn’t sure if he was angry, or happy to see me, or frustrated, or pissed off. I didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell.

Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry.

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