Page 30 of At My Worst

“I’m sorry she hurt you,” Bianca says with sadness, making my chest ache.

“Me too, but I don’t think she knows how to be faithful,” I say through gritted teeth. I honestly don’t think that chick has been able to stay faithful to any man she has been with. I don’t know why I thought I would be any different.

“She cheated on you?” Bianca asks in a low voice.

“Yeah, that’s where my trust issues come from, along with the other things that are wrong with me,” I say calmly.

Bianca stops, pulling me to stop with her. I look at her, and she presses into me. It is dark, but I can see the sadness in her eyes as she rests her free hand against my chest, causing my heart to race for a whole new reason.

“There is nothing wrong with you,” she states, looking me in the eyes.

I take a deep breath. “I wish that were true, Bianca,” I sigh.

“When I look at you, Alexander, I see a strong, loving, passionate man who has not been treated right. There is nothing wrong with you,” she says with more confidence. I let her words wash over me, slowly drowning out the other thoughts and things I have been told.

I inhale deeply as I lift my hand and gently brush the back of my fingers down her cheek. “What did he do to you?” I whisper.

She pulls back, her eyes searching mine as she tries to lower her hand from my chest. Before she can move it, I rest my hand over hers, holding it against my rapidly beating heart.

“Made me question my worth,” she confesses shaky.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you have ever felt unworthy,” I say, staring into her sad eyes.

“There is a lot that has happened, but that is the first thing that comes to mind when you ask that question,” she explains, but I can see it in her eyes. There is so much she is not telling me, so much she is keeping hidden.

“You know what I see when I look at you?” I ask her.

“What?”

“My other half,” I confess.

“Alexander, please,” she exhales, trying to dismiss my statement.

I am guessing she is not used to hearing these kinds of words being used to describe her. Her body language tells me she is uncomfortable. She’s comfortable saying these things to me, but I can’t express what I see or how I feel about her. Again, it makes me want to hear everything that man fucking did to her.

How deep have his words cut into her?

If I were to take a guess, it goes pretty deep and spans over years based on what I see in her eyes. She tries to hide the wounds from everyone, but I see them. I see her.

“Let me love you, Bianca. I can love you better than he can. I promise you that. You are worthy, baby, and I will prove it to you every second of every fucking day,” I plead with her.

She drops her head and stares at the ground, making my heart sink. I reach forward and wrap my fingers around her throat, tilting her head up so she is forced to look at me. I pull her against me, and her eyes rapidly search mine.

She needs to feel loved. Words are just that, words. I will show her with my fucking actions.

I lean down and smash my lips to hers. I will not let her escape and try to run from me. If she tries, I will fucking follow her to the ends of the earth if I have to.

Fuck that guy. Fuck him for ever making her question her worth, for making her feel as if there is something wrong with her. There is nothing wrong with her. She is perfect just the way she is, every sharp shattered fucking piece.

I pull back just enough to look over her face. “I am right fucking here, Bianca, and no matter what you say or what you do, I am not going anywhere,” I promise and confess to her.

I release my hold on her throat and turn, guiding us both down the rest of the pathway. Each encounter we have is progress. She is giving me more and more piece by piece.

I look ahead and see the opening leading us to the waterfall. My heart races as I release her hand, and I stop as she takes a few more steps toward the waterfall. I have never wanted to take anyone here before, but now I can’t picture this place without her.

I came here to find peace, and she is slowly becoming my peace.

I slowly walk up behind her, grabbing the bottom of her sweatshirt. Without saying a word, she lifts her arms, and I lift her sweatshirt and shirt up and over her head, tossing it on the ground next to us. I grab onto the top of her joggers and slowly lower them, forcing them down her legs with her underwear. She kicks off her shoes and lifts each foot as I remove her underwear and sweats.

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