Scorch (Virtues & Lies 2)

I can’t do that though. I can’t be so selfish again. Not when it comes to his life.

“Fucking stop!” Cuffing my wrists, his hands hold me still. “Please.”

I don’t. If I stop now, everything I’ve done will have been for nothing. I’ll be sucked right back in and forced to let go of the only thing that’s keeping me going.

My head is barely above water. I’m getting tired from all the manic swimming. And right now, his arms are the perfect buoy.

But I don’t want to float. As tired as I am, I want to keep on swimming. If not for me, then for our baby and him.

The justice I’m after isn’t something he can give me, because I’ll never ask it of him. There’s too much at risk for that.

Freeing myself from his hold, I stagger backwards. “Why are you here?”

“What?” Taking a step towards me, he stops when I move back a couple. “What the fuck do you think?”

The venom in his voice has me looking straight up at him.

Oh my God! What happened? I almost shriek at him. His face is puffy, nose swollen, and his eyes appear bruised.

My feet carry me back to him before I can stop myself. On my tiptoes, I cup his face, not missing the flinch when my thumb strokes over his tender cheeks.

I don’t know how I’m meant to pull away again, because he’s hurt, and I’ve always been there to help.

His teeth drag his sculped bottom lip into his mouth with the lowest groan. And God help me, my heart starts beating like it’s just been shocked back to life. Pounding and stuttering and racing as it chases my sharp and short breaths.

His dark gaze remains stuck on mine as we stand in the middle of the street, alone for the first time in forever. It feels like we’re all the way back to square one. Where we started.

Me, desperately trying not to fall in love with him. Except this time, I’m not foolish enough to believe that it’s possible. Because with every ticking second, every pounding heartbeat, and every shallow breath, I fall in love with my husband all over again. Harder. Stronger.

My heart sighs with the relief that we are still us, just as it breaks with the certainty that it isn’t enough.

“Where have you been?” he asks, hands squeezing my shoulders.

Fuck, his vice grip burns through me. This pain and fire are something I’d forgotten I could feel. I’ve been vacant for so long, and with a simple touch he’s making me aware of all the things that used to fill me up. That used to make me up.

“Why did you leave me?”

Trailing down my back, his touch warms me from the inside out, pulling all the forgotten parts that fell by the wayside closer to their rightful place.

How am I ever meant to leave you again? I keep asking with the knowledge that I have to walk away from him. Now. Before he sees too much.

His hands continue wandering down my body until they’re at the curve of my arse, rounding to my hips. I freeze as the heels press to my stomach.

I can’t breathe as pain slices through me. I don’t recall the attack hurting like this. I barely felt the knife ripping through my flesh. The reminder from his touch hurts so much more.

That’s answer enough.

“Arabella…” he murmurs breathless, trying to pull me closer. The way he says my name is like it took everything in him to form every fucking syllable.

Christopher’s eyes flit between mine desperately as I dig my heels into the ground.

I have to go. My defences are crumbling, and if I don’t leave now, we’ll both be doomed and plagued by guilt and sorrow.

I won’t let him carry the weight of my mistakes.

“It’s too late, Christopher.” Chin wobbling and tears blurring my vision, I push his hands away, taking advantage of the hurt that staggers him to put enough distance between us. “I can’t…this…us…”

Hands on his hips, he looks down at the ground. His entire body is wracking with his heaving breaths, and for one short minute I think that he’s about to break down and dissolve into the mess I feel.