Fragile Eternity (Wicked Lovely 3)
She cried out, and then he pulled back.
“Don…” His face was grief stricken. “I didn’t mean to…” He proppe
d himself up on one arm and looked down at her bruised arms. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know.” She slid to the floor, leaving him alone on the smoking sofa.
“I just wanted to talk.” He watched her warily.
She concentrated on the ice inside of her, not on how close he still was. “About us, or about business?”
“Both.” He grimaced as he tried to pull on his tattered shirt.
She watched him button it up, as if that would help hold it in place. Neither spoke as he fussed with the ruined cloth. Then she asked, “Do you love me? Even a little?”
He stilled, hands aloft. “What?”
“Do you love me?”
He stared at her. “How can you ask that?”
“Do you?” She needed to hear it, something, anything.
He didn’t answer.
“Why are you even here?” she asked.
“To see you. To be near you.”
“Why? I need more than your lust.” She didn’t cry as she said it. She didn’t do anything to let him know how badly her heart was breaking. “Tell me we have something more than that. Something that won’t destroy either of us.”
He was a sunlit effigy, as beautiful as always, but his words weren’t beautiful. “Don. Come on. You know it’s more than that. You know what’s between us.”
“Do I?”
He reached out. His hand was healing, but he was bruised.
That’s what we do to each other.
Donia stood up and walked outside, needing not to see the destruction in her home.
Again.
Keenan followed.
She leaned against the cottage. How many times have I stood here, trying to keep my distance from him or from the last Winter Queen? She didn’t want a repeat of the last time Winter and Summer tried to be together.
“I don’t want us to destroy each other like they did,” she whispered.
“We’re not like them. You’re not like Beira.” He didn’t touch her. Instead he sat on the porch. “I’m not going to give up on you if we have a chance.”
“This”—she motioned at the destruction behind her—“isn’t good.”
“We slipped for a minute.”
“Again,” she added.
“Yes, but…we can sort it out. I shouldn’t have reached for you, but you were crying and…” He squeezed her hand. “I slipped up. You make me forget myself.”