Made me jump up and run to him to hold him tight and tell him to never let me go again.
Because no amount of hatred can ever substitute the need I feel for him.
Resentment isn’t the opposite of love.
You don’t get so angry with random strangers.
You can only hate someone you love so deeply that it destroys you.
That you wished they had done something differently so you wouldn’t ever have to hate them.
And yes, I was mad at him, completely and utterly enraged at what he had done. But all the lies and betrayal fade compared to the kindness he showed the other women. And to me.
Because out of all the things he could’ve done, he chose to set me free.
He chose, willingly, to relinquish me of the burden to become his. For our child to become a part of this mess.
And with it, he chose death, knowing it was the only path he could take.
But I refuse to let him go there.
“I need you,” I whisper between kisses. “Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me.”
He presses another soft kiss to my lips, the left side quirking up into a smile. “I don’t understand … You should hate me. You should want me dead.”
“No. I want you to live. I need you to stay with me,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. “And if you really have to do this … then I’m coming with you.”
“Why would you do that?” He shakes his head.
A tear escapes my eyes as I press my lips onto his again. “Because I … I love you.”
His lips part, and he looks me in the eyes, and at that moment, everything else ceases to exist. And he smashes his lips on mine so violently that it feels like I’m being thrust right back into all the emotions I’ve tried so hard to keep hidden.
But it’s too late now. They’re out there in the open, and I refuse to shove them back down again.
Now I understand why he said he needed me … to live.
Not because he wanted me to live.
But if I left … he couldn’t live.
And the mere realization of that hurts me to my core and makes my heart bleed.
The longer our kiss lasts, the more his feet move away from the edge. He moves down to the chair again, to my level, our lips still firmly locked in what feels like an eternal battle of push and pull.
When he briefly takes his lips off mine, I whisper, “I’m sorry. I wish I had known sooner that this was the reason, that this was what you meant when you said you needed me to live.” Tears well up in my eyes at the thought of losing him. “I’m sorry. I need you. I don’t want you to go.”
He wraps his big arms around me and presses a kiss to my head. “If you want me to stay …”
“Yes!” I scream. “Ignore the rules. I need you. You don’t have to pay for your sins.”
He licks his lips. “Everybody does.”
“Well, then take them out on me. I don’t care!” I know I’m shouting, but I need him to listen to me for once.
His eyes are a combination of sweet love filled with misery. “You would do that for me?”
“Yes. In a heartbeat,” I reply. “I would carry your sins like you carried mine.”
A rich and honest smile appears on his face while he still cups mine, deepening his gaze. “I cannot let you do that … But if this is really want you wish …”
“This is what I want,” I say. I don’t need him to say anything else. “Stay here. With me.”
I pull him farther down along the same chair he climbed upon. Even though he’s completely naked, I still hug him tight, not wishing to let him go for fear of what might happen. Of what he might do.
“I won’t let you go until you promise me you won’t do it,” I say, my arms still wrapped around his neck while we stand on the balcony.
“What will it take for you to believe me when I say I will grant you your darkest wish yet?” He raises a brow.
I frown. “Darkest wish?”
His thumb caresses down my cheek and across my lips. “To keep me here as an eternal slave to the suffering I caused you.”
Is he still sad about hurting me?
Am I the one keeping him in these chains of sin?
Rubbing my lips together, I lean in and whisper into his ear, “I forgive you.”
His breath comes out ragged, but a long-drawn-out sigh follows. And he sinks to his knees with me still in his arms. And we hug tighter than ever before.
“Thank you,” he mutters, the very sound of his cracked voice breaking my heart.
My hands caress the back of his neck, as well as his shoulders, which are covered with bumps and scratchy ridges that feel awful to the touch. And as he leans forward onto my chest, I lean over his shoulder to look at what he’s been hiding for so long.