Eternally His

I took a breath and forced myself to meet her gaze as I confessed; it would be cowardly for me to evade her now. I owed it to Isabel to face her when I revealed the truth that would surely break this new, fragile connection between us.

“You look like a woman I used to know,” I began, damning myself. “Your eyes are almost the exact same shade. Sometimes, when I look at you, I see her. That’s why I want to blindfold you.”

Her lush lips quivered slightly before she pressed them together. She blinked hard, holding back the tears that I dreaded.

“I don’t want you to see someone else when we’re together either,” she said, her voice small. Her spine straightened, as though she was gathering her courage. “But I still don’t want you to blindfold me. We can work through this. I want to share my life with you, Sebastián. I don’t want to live separately anymore.”

Her dainty hand caressed my cheek, and a shudder rolled through me at the tender contact.

I didn’t deserve it. Not after what I’d done. Since Maria, I’d never allowed a woman to touch me with tenderness. I couldn’t accept it from Isabel, no matter how much I craved her.

“We will share a life together,” I promised, compelled to soothe her. “Just not in all ways. This is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew the truth would hurt you. I never want to hurt you, Isabel.”

Her jaw firmed with determination. “I get to decide what I can and can’t handle. Sometimes, the truth can be painful, but I’d rather feel a little pain now than endure years of a half-life with you. I can’t do that, Sebastián. I won’t let some woman from your past keep you from me. You’re mine.”

Her ferocity shocked me into stunned silence for a long moment. On our wedding day, I never could’ve imagined this fragile creature capable of such strength of will. I never could’ve imagined that she would come to care for me so deeply that she would willingly endure this painful truth.

My wife was far braver than I’d ever given her credit for. All this time, I’d been determined to protect her. But in her own, gentler way, she wanted to save me too.

I shook my head. She didn’t understand that I was beyond salvation.

“She died,” I said bluntly. “Maria, the woman who looked like you. She died because of me. I see my failure, my betrayal, when I look into your eyes.”

Her thumb traced the line of my cheekbone. She was still touching my face with tenderness, and I hadn’t been able to force myself to pull away. It felt too good to have her caress me, to feel her concern and comforting warmth.

I didn’t deserve it, but I craved it with every fiber of my being.

“Tell me what happened,” she insisted, her voice soft but firm. “I want to understand.”

“I told you about the day I was freed from captivity, the day of the raid, when I killed my owner.” The truth slipped from my soul, compelled to confess the entirety of my sin. “Maria died that day.”

The memory of her lovely eyes, open and staring at nothing, caused my stomach to turn even after all these years.

My fault.

“They killed her, but I still joined their cartel. I’m still loyal to the organization. I’ll be loyal to them until the day I die because they saved me. But my freedom cost her life.”

“But you…” Isabel hesitated for just a moment, flinching from the awfulness of it. “You didn’t kill her, did you?”

I gnashed my teeth and tasted blood on my tongue. “No, but I didn’t save her. I killed her father, so he wasn’t alive to protect her.”

Isabel’s hand faltered on my face, but she didn’t break contact. Her brow furrowed. “She was his daughter? The man who held you captive?”

I managed a tight nod. When I was fourteen, Maria had started to notice me. I was becoming a man, and she was barely a woman herself. She’d come to me one night, and she’d shown me what it meant to be a man. She’d come to me often after that. I’d been in pain for most of my life until then, and it’d been a mercy to feel pleasure.

“Did you love her?” Isabel asked tremulously, a tear glittering on her bronze cheek.

I stiffened at the question. Had I loved Maria? I’d spent so many years hating myself for my betrayal that I’d never stopped to untangle my feelings for the woman I’d failed.

Rafael had always hated her. I suspected she’d tried to do the same with him as she did with me, but he loathed her for what she was: our captor’s daughter. Her life was furnished by our misery.

But she’d made me feel good when my life was nothing but agony and despair. She’d given me glimmers of pleasure, and I still let her die that day. I traded her life for my freedom.