Page 27 of Unregrettable

I didn’t offer her a complete explanation. I wasn’t being fully transparent about why I let the boys go at her. Why I sat back although every muscle in my body wanted to leap across the locker room and cover her body with mine. Every hit she sustained by flying balls or cleats was like a gouge in my chest. I had to turn my back or I would’ve pounded my chest, roared, and torn through those boys like King Kong.

I’d purposely turned away from her, but only to save her from me. Crina deserves to hear the whole truth, but she already hates me. If I tell her, not only she will despise me, but she will look at me with disgust.

I swallow hard and rasp, “A part of me never came back from that night.” My throat cinches tight, but I push through and choke out, “I never came back.”

Her big, wide eyes are fixated on me, shock pouring out. This subject is as hands off as it gets, but now that we’re here, I have no choice but to explain myself. I can’t let her walk away with this ridiculous notion that I plotted to hurt her. The very idea that she’s been harboring these thoughts makes my stomach go sour. No wonder she refused to talk to me, except for the half dozen times her mother drove her into my arms.

Her bottom lip is pouty again. It trembles slightly. “You hurt me. You let them hurt me.”

“Chuckie,” I say low and hoarse. “I snapped. Coach was talking, making crude jokes. The boys were rowdy. Some of them were undressed. I told you to wait outside until I gave the signal. When I saw you with Dinu… My emotions were running riot and when I saw you…” I shook my head sadly. “I lost it.”

She gazes up at me. “I was outside, pacing up and down in that stupid, ugly hallway. Did you know the paint job on those walls is the color of puke? I was desperately waiting for any signal, but I heard nothing. Then Dinu and Adrian passed by on their way to the locker room. Dinu stopped to talk to me. I don’t even remember what he said, but I ended up telling him about my plan. He said he’d help. Only, he set me up.” Her gaze dropped to the floor, her lips turned down in a sulky frown. She looked so dejected. “He’s the one who screwed me over.”

“And me,” I add. “I could’ve done better, but my protective instincts came roaring to the surface. The boys were ogling you and when I caught the look on some of their faces, I wanted to tear them apart. And I wanted you out. Out and safe, away from those assholes. But I didn’t handle it well. I don’t even remember half of what I said to you.”

“You said that I sucked at soccer and shouldn’t try out.”

I caress her hair. “You know that wasn’t true. You were good. Really good. But the boys’ team wasn’t the place for you.” She shoots me a vicious look. “No, don’t look at me like that. I’m not saying you weren’t tough enough. I’m saying it wasn’t the right place. There should have been a good girls’ team like there is now.”

Still looking down, she scuffs the linoleum floor with the tip of her Jordans. “But there wasn’t.”

She glances up at me, her expressive eyes glassy with pain. I want to tear at my chest, leave it open and gaping, gushing out blood for hurting her, but the pain that has been festering for years. It must be excavated and dragged out, stomped out and eliminated.

There’s no going forward otherwise.

“You know how much I loved soccer,” she says. “I lived for it. It was the only thing that mattered. The only thing that felt good. That made me feel strong and powerful. And it was mine.” She looked away. “It wasn’t my mother’s and it was never going to be. I would’ve lied to her about practice. The games were after school. I would’ve managed to hide it from her.”

I gently lift her chin until her eyes are back on me. “She would’ve eventually found out. Nothing stays a secret among Romanians and that woman has eyes everywhere. I bet she chose me as your husband because she doubts you’re a virgin, just from the half dozen times we’ve fucked around.”

“You can’t throw this on her. The crime is still yours.”

It’s not worth pushing this angle. It won’t get me anywhere, and it’s irrelevant. Sure, her mother would’ve found out and stopped her, but so what? It wasn’t the reason I went ballistic that day. And if I need to explain it a thousand times and apologize another thousand, I will.

“I’m not trying to shift the blame to your mother, of all people. I’ll explain again. I didn’t plot to hurt you or humiliate you in public. I was in pain overhim. I went along because I was grieving and then…” I swallow. “I lost it, and I’m sorry about that.”

The brown center of her eyes, jagged pieces of chocolate, get overtaken by the brightest turquoise blue, green, and gold. “I’d accept your apology if I believed it. You were struggling with grief and I may have taken advantage of that, but there’s more. You’re holding back, Marku. Tell me the truth. The whole truth.”

Fuck.

This girl.

She gets me every time. This is why I ached for her, tortured by the thought that she would be another man’s wife during my hopeless phase of trying to set her free. Not because she was in trouble. I was always going to protect her, no matter what. Not because my clan demanded it. Not because our mothers wanted it. Not because she was the sassiest woman alive, and the only one I’ve ever really wanted.

Because of this.

Because she was so damn intelligent and so damn brave. Only a lucky man stumbled on a rare treasure like her. And when he did, he snatched it up and never let it go.

She’s gazing up at me, waiting for my answer.

How did the tables turn so quickly? I was determined to get to the bottom of what happened to her this morning and look how swiftly everything turned topsy turvy. Now, I’m the one that’s been thrown off kilter and plunged into the past, into the worst time of my life, and she wants to know the truth. She already knows. That’s the fucking irony, of course. She just wants me to own up to it. To man up.

I take a bracing breath. “The truth is that I wanted to push you away.”

She’s nodding her head encouragingly. My throat is closing up again and she’s asking for more.

“You’re right,” she agrees. “It took me a long time to get over the details of that day and really look at what you did and why you did it.Why, I kept asking myself,why?”

I shake my head, and attempt to pull away, but she grasps my shirt and drags me closer. “You owned up to the what. Yes, you pushed me away, butwhy?We were closer than any two kids could be. We were closer than the closest of siblings, so why would you push me away?”

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