“No stronger than anyone else. I’ve obviously had my own issues.” I pointed to the scar on my thigh.
He touched it gently. “Does it hurt?”
“No. Not anymore.”
“Can you promise me you’ll never hurt yourself again?”
I swallowed, trying to think of the right words to say. They didn’t come.
“Please, sweetheart? I can’t stand the thought of you harming yourself in any way.”
“I’ll try,” I said. “I’ve made that promise to myself before, only to break it. I made the promise to Mel, only to break it. I don’t want to ever break a promise to you.”
“Then don’t.”
“Which is why I can’t make that promise. I will try. That’s the best I can do.”
He nodded. “That’s good enough. For now.”
I touched his cheek, his stubble scraping against my smooth fingertips. “I love you.”
>
He smiled. “I love you too. I’ve wanted to say that so many times.”
“Have you?”
He nodded. “Writing you that letter was torture. Pure torture.”
“Good. Because it was pure torture to read it. Believe me.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I forgive you.”
“Do you? Really?”
I nodded. “Really.”
He looked around. “I really want to make love to you. Slowly and completely. But I don’t want to do it here. Not in either of those bedrooms, and not in this room either. It has to be perfect, and anything in this old cabin, where God only knows what went on, won’t be perfect.”
“The place doesn’t matter, Bryce.”
“It does to me.”
His eyes held such torment that I wanted to cradle him like a child and tell him everything would be all right.
But everything wasn’t all right.
We loved each other. We were going to do this.
But everything was far from all right.
Bryce had confided in me. Someone was watching him.
I flashed back to the night Jade and I had met with Colin at the main house. His obscure words.
I’m sorry for what I did. For what I allowed to happen. And for what’s to come.