“Then you went and broke rule number four all on your own. I told you not to, and you did anyway. Did you see me throw a shit fit when you dropped that bomb on me?”
“Bomb?” Her eyes narrowed. “My love isn’t a bomb, and if you knew how to use your words instead of your hands—”
“Princess, you like it when I use my hands. You fucking love it when I use my body to show you how I feel about you.” Fuck, I was on the verge of showing her right now.
“Do you want to marry me?” she asked, shocking me to my core.
I pushed off the wall, giving her an exit. “It has nothing to do with want. What I want isn’t what’s right, and it isn’t what’s good for you, that’s for damned sure.”
“Why? You give me one good reason why we shouldn’t get married.”
“One? You only need one?” I laughed. “Fuck, Persephone. I don’t belong in your world. I hate the vests, and the parties, and the fake ass way people cut each other down with a smile. The only thing I remotely like about your world is you.”
“That’s enough,” she insisted. “Liking me is enough!”
“It’s not. You are good and pure and kind, and I have enough baggage to open my own luggage store. I’m dangerous. My temper isn’t something I’m proud of. You’re right, I’m shit at discussing emotion, and I know that’s something you need.”
“So we can work on it!” she cried.
“I’m not built like you! I can’t just throw my heart around and watch and see what happens!”
“Throw my heart around? I love you, Cannon. I’ve only ever loved you.” She moved toward me, and I stepped back.
“I know you think that.”
She stilled. “Don’t you dare belittle my emotions just because you can’t express your own. I love you. That’s real.”
I shook my head. “Love…it isn’t easy like this—” I gestured between us. “That’s infatuation, and it was bound to happen. I’m the first man you’ve ever had sex with, and those chemicals are a bitch, but they’re not real. Real love? It takes sacrifice. It means you’re willing to lay your body down and take whatever pain you have to in order to keep it from the person you love.”
Horror washed over her face. “Cannon…”
“Love means you make the best decision you can for that person with no thought for how it’s going to destroy you. Love is brutal, and it’s ugly at times. Love is what remains when all the fuzzy feelings disappear, and you’re still ready to wage war to protect that person.” I looked around the ballroom, at the expensive linens, the china, the crystal…the opulence. “Jesus, have you ever had to sacrifice for anything?”
She blinked, then perused the room the same way I had. “You’re not being fair.”
“Life isn’t fair. It only looks that way when you’re born into the type of privilege that makes you assume it is.”
The door opened, and both our heads snapped to see who it was.
“We’re busy!” Persephone called out.
“Well, that might be so,” her mother said with a knowing smile as she glanced between us. “But we’re going to miss our massage appointments if we don’t get going.”
Persephone’s face fell as she looked at the crumpled piece of paper she held. “Mom…”
My own mother’s face flashed in front of my eyes. The hectic way she’d packed the car, and the scared, but hopeful smile she’d given us as she made sure we were buckled in before she ran back inside to get her purse. She’d never gotten the chance to be happy.
“Go,” I said softly to Persephone, cutting off her attempt at a confession.
“What?” Confusion wrinkled her brow.
I crossed the distance between us and took the license from her. Then I kissed her forehead, lingering a heartbeat longer than I should have to take in her scent. Fuck, this woman was my everything, but she wasn’t my wife.
Of course, she wasn’t. I wasn’t the kind of man who was allowed to have good things in life, to include Persephone.
“Go with your mom. We’ll talk tonight.”
Her eyes searched mine, confused, apprehensive, and hopeful all at the same time.
“You heard what the man said! Let’s go!” Mrs. VanDoren called out with a happy clap.
“Tonight,” Persephone promised. She squeezed my hand lightly and walked out, leaving me alone in a ballroom where I didn’t belong, holding a marriage license that never really existed, cursing an aching heart that felt as though it had been cracked in a billion little pieces.
What the fuck were we going to do?
18
Persephone
“Real love? It takes sacrifice. It means you’re willing to lay your body down and take whatever pain you have to in order to keep it from the person you love.”
My mind hadn’t stopped replaying Cannon’s words from our earlier fight, and my heart had yet to stop breaking each time I heard his voice echo in my head.