Heartless (Merciless 2)

Her arms cross and uncross as she debates on how to handle the revelation. She paces from the dresser to the vanity. Already pacing in this room. I have to fight the urge to smirk as I watch her pace back and forth over the white rug, which is exactly how I pictured her in here.

But not so soon, and not like this. This room is better than the cell if nothing else.

“I thought you would have assumed,” I tell her honestly and nervousness prickles my skin as she glares back at me. It’s unsettling and I debate on leaving her here, but I refuse. She’s not going to take her anger out on me. Not when it belongs to someone else. “It wasn’t supposed to upset you. I wanted you to have everything you could have possibly wanted,” I admit to her and try to keep my voice even and calm, but the anger toward her response still lingers.

The nervousness grows inside of me, and I’m sickened by it. I thought she would appreciate this. I thought she would be excited to have everything she had before. Or at least grateful. I thought wrong.

I should feel irritated or pissed, but that’s not what I feel at all. I’ve done this to her. She can’t accept a gift without being cautious of my intentions.

With a growing pit in my stomach, I speak without meeting her eyes. I stare straight ahead at the hanging curtains that are only meant to add beauty to the locked windows that will never open for her.

“I wanted to make you happy,” I tell her and clear my throat of the spiked knot. “I thought this would make you happy,” I pause to run my hand over the back of my head, feeling the ever-present crease that reminds me how shitty I am at knowing what she needs beyond a good fuck and finally look into her thoughtful gaze that’s already softening, “or at least provide you comfort.”

My heart beats faster as she stares back at me with a kindness she hasn’t before given me. “I’m trying to be gentle,” I confess to her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers in a choked voice. The second I feel myself wavering and losing the man I am to this woman, she wanders toward me and wraps her arms around my waist, her hands splaying on my shoulders as she hugs me.

It takes me a moment to hold her to me and when I do, I kiss her hair and bury my face in it before she pulls away.

Her eyes are glassy but she doesn’t cry; she sounds strong, although a few of her words crack as she says, “It’s just a reminder… of everything that I’ll never have again.” She gestures to the room and exhales deeply before adding, “It’s beautiful and it does give me comfort. You have no idea how much I love this. I do.” She swallows with her eyes closed and then runs her fingers through her hair. I wait patiently for her to continue.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… there’s always something that happens that proves I know nothing and I’m lost.”

“You’re not lost.” My response is immediate, and my tone is one I expect from myself. It’s not to be questioned. “You belong here, with me.”

Her shoulders steady as her breathing calms and her formerly emotionally-distraught features calm once again, but it’s an act. She’s brimming inside with a mixture of fear, betrayal, anger, and confusion.

“You’re only lost because you want to be,” I tell her low and deep, reaching out and pulling her small body closer to me.

Her hands land on my chest and she gasps slightly before looking up at me.

“I can give you everything. I can give you what you never even dreamed of before.” I mean every word. I can and will.

Her long hair shines in the light as she nods, making it swish along her collarbone. She’s compliant, but her wide eyes are full of questions. Questions she doesn’t ask me. Some of them I’m grateful I won’t have to answer.

“If you want to run, you run here.”

“Carter, there are things you can’t replace.” She looks straight ahead at my chest as she speaks and her shoulders shudder. “Money can’t replace–”

“I’m fully aware of what money can’t replace. Nothing can erase the past. Nothing can bring it back.” The sharp edge of my words and the pain and anger I refuse to hide in them erase her desperation to beg me for what I will never give her.

“I’ll give you what I can. Everything that I’m able. But sometimes what we want most is impossible to achieve.” My throat tightens with emotion and just as it does, Aria props herself up on her tiptoes, gently caresses my face and kisses me.

It’s short and only a peck. Only a small kiss. Nothing like what we’ve shared before.