Page 40 of The Honest Affair

“You’re just scared,” I said bitterly. “Like you always are. We dance around each other like wildcats, but when we finally do what our bodies and minds are screaming for, you run off like a scared little bunny who can’t face the music.”

Nina whirled around, tossing my jacket to the floor. Tracks of tears streamed down her porcelain cheeks.

“I am not scared!” she snapped. “And kindly fuck you for saying so!”

I was stunned—I’d never heard her talk like that before. But my shock didn’t last long.

“Fuck me?” I retorted. “How about fuck you for running off for, what, the fifteenth time since we met? You once accused me of using you, but I’m starting to think it’s the other way around. Think you’ll ever stick around after I make you scream my name, sweetheart? You might be surprised by what happens.”

“Why?” In wild, jerky movements, she swiped a few more angry tears off her cheek. “So you can accuse me of more heinous crimes? Spy on me for another secret investigation?”

“Don’t do that,” I said. “I swear to God, Nina, I was always on your side. I was just confused for one fucking minute when I saw that video.”

“Confused? You mistook another woman for me! You actually believed I was capable of forcing children into prostitution, Matthew!”

“It was a mistake!” I shouted. “And believe me, baby, I am paying for it. Every fuckin’ day, I am paying for it. I have plenty of regrets in my life, Nina, but none so much as not taking a second look at that clip. Just…please!”

“Please what? What do you want from me?”

“EVERYTHING!” I roared.

I sucked in breath like I’d just run a marathon. Nina stood with her back flat against the window, eyes wide, left hand pressed to her heart. For a moment, I saw the ring that used to gleam on that hand. Gaudy and big, flashing in the tiniest of lights. And then I saw another, the one buried deep in my bureau at home. The one Nonna had given me the day after my grandfather’s funeral. The one I knew I’d never be able to give to anyone else but the woman standing in front of me.

This was it. She was it for me.

But she’d lost hope in that future, just like I had once. Somehow, some way, I had to make her believe again.

I took a jagged step toward her, then another, and another until finally I was standing just inches from her complete and utter majesty. Even post-coital, wrinkled, and tear-stained, she really was a queen. How anyone could do anything besides worship her, I’d never fucking understand.

And so, more out of instinct than anything else, I sank to my knees. It fit. It really did.

Loving this woman was the greatest sacrament I’d ever known.

Loving her was holy.

Leaving her was the real sin.

“Everything,” I repeated as I pressed my face into her thigh, inhaling the scent of silk and flowers and sex and us as I did. “I want the fucking world with you, Nina. I want you always and forever. A—”

I paused. Was that really the way to end it? Deep down, though, I realized I was saying this prayer every day. Begging God to grant me mercy through this woman’s love.

“Amen,” I whispered with finality, squeezing my eyes shut.

Her hand slipped into my hair, threading fingers so gently through the strands, I nearly started to cry right along with her.

“Oh, Matthew,” Nina said in that sweet, sad tone that broke my heart every time.

Because she only said it when she was sorry. She only said it when she had nothing else to say.

“Please,” I whispered fiercely as I found my way back to my feet. Gently, I placed my palms to her cheeks, cradling her face with reverence. “Please forgive me, Nina. I belong to you. I will never forsake you again. I promise.”

She opened her rose-petal mouth, and for a moment, I considered plundering it. Crushing those petals between my lips, forcing her to succumb the way she always would.

But you can’t force love back to you. It has to come of its own accord.

This I’d finally learned.

And so, I waited. Let the uncomfortable silence settle over us like a cape. I’d wait all night if that’s what she needed. Hell, I’d wait forever.

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