A somewhat better reaction than his previous bland question.
“No, that’s not why I was crying,” I answered anyway. “I found the photographs.”
Confused, he shrugged. “What photographs?”
“The ones you have of me, of us, in the side table.”
His reply was to take a few more wary steps back.
Renewed tears trembled on my lashes. “I’m leaving you. So the only thing you’ll have left of me are those fucking photographs.”
The blank wall came slamming down over his face.
I got it now. It was just like Effie said. Caine was never more cold and distant than when he was determined to hide what he was really feeling.
“I’m not going to stand here and have the same argument with you over and over. What I will say is that when I walk out that door I’m walking out of here hating you for throwing me away when the truth is … the truth is you love me. I know you do, even if you deny it. And if it were me, Caine, I wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of you ever hating me, no matter how far apart we are, and I will hate you if you don’t stop lying. So you either tell me what it is you’re hiding or you don’t, but you should know I will definitely never forgive you if you don’t.” I swiped away my tears. “And I’m so tired of the whole concept of unforgiveness.”
I waited for what seemed like forever for Caine to answer me. When he did I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or concerned. His eyes hard, he nodded. “Fine, you want the truth, I’ll tell you the truth, but take your pills first.”
“I can do that,” I said, not liking the brittle, snappish tone he was using.
Once I’d swallowed the pills and was seated on the sofa at the other end of the room, Caine paced for a while, back and forth in front of me.
“Are you going to sit down?” My heart had begun to pound at his increasing anxiety.
Oh God, what is he hiding?
Instead of sitting, he stopped to face me.
My stomach felt sick.
When Caine met my gaze, that feeling worsened. He looked angry, and I didn’t know if that was because of me or himself.
“Caine,” I whispered.
“I’m not the guy for you, Lex,” he said, and I knew that he truly believed it.
I flushed with annoyance. “Surely that’s my decision to make.”
“No, that’s my decision to make.”
We stared at each other while I bit back an infuriated response.
Caine crossed his arms over his chest. “Only Henry and the people involved know this about my past. I’ve worked hard to make sure it stays buried.”
Oh fuck, oh God, oh hell, oh fuck …
“At school I was working as a waiter at this fancy restaurant in Society Hill. I’d gotten into Wharton on my scholarship, but I wasn’t living in the greatest student housing in Philly and I still needed money. I needed money to survive, but I also needed money to invest. I met Henry in college and he had connections. He got me the job at the restaurant. It paid better than most … While I was there I was propositioned by this older woman. A wealthy older woman.”
If it was possible I think my heart stopped for a moment.
Caine’s gaze bored into me with some kind of twisted determination. “She offered me a lot of money.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered, not believing where this confession had led. If I’d placed a bet on what his secret was, I would have lost huge. “You did it? You had sex with her for money?”
He gave a short nod, so tense he looked ready to shatter. “The way she saw it, I was perfect—I was a Wharton man, not some ignoramus off the street, but I was also poor and ambitious. She asked the right questions, worked it out, knew what she was doing, knew I might let her manipulate me. And I did. I thought what the hell? It was just her.”
Realization hit me with force. My stomach knotted. “But it wasn’t, was it?”
He shook his head. “It was the kind of titillation a bored housewife was looking for. She told a friend she trusted and before I knew it I didn’t need the waiter job. I had a clientele.” He bit the word out bitterly. “It was perfect. There was no chance of it getting out, because none of these women could afford for people to discover they were paying a college student for sex. I made enough money in nine months to invest. I invested wisely and saw a huge return. From there I invested more and so forth.”
“A big enough return to start up the bank.”
Caine finally looked at me, seeming to dare me to hate him. “Henry walked in on me with one of my clients one time and discovered the whole thing. He’s the only one who knows how far I sank to get what I want.”
“That’s why you’re weird whenever I ask about Wharton. Why you hate me around Henry, because he’s the only one who could tell me the truth?”
“That and he gets a kick out of pissing me off by flirting with you all the time.”
I ignored that, too stunned, reeling from his revelation. “That woman at the Delaneys’ party … she was one of them, wasn’t she?”
“Yes,” he admitted, his expression still taunting. “She’s from Philadelphia. I rarely cross paths with the women from that time in my life, but I knew she was going to be there—”
“That’s why you were in a mood that whole day and at the party …” I stood up slowly and he watched me warily. “That’s why you ended it with me.”
“It could never work between us.”
“Because of this?”
“Lexie, I practically sold my soul to get where I am today. I’m a selfish bastard … and you …” His eyes washed over my face. “You’ve already lost everything to keep your soul intact.”
“Caine.” I couldn’t say anything for a minute. I was strangled by emotion.
He abruptly started to walk away.
“Don’t go,” I cried out.
He stopped, turning slightly to look back at me.
“I love you,” I said through my tears. “I love you so much. Nothing changes that. Nothing.”
He huffed in irritated disbelief. “Not even the fact that I was a whore?”
I flinched at the word. It wasn’t an easy truth to swallow, and if I didn’t know him, know how life had cheated him from the start, maybe I wouldn’t have been able to see the big picture. But I could. I didn’t blame Caine for what had happened. I blamed them. “They used you,” I argued.
If anything, this seemed to piss Caine off even more.
“No, they used you,” I repeated. “Yes, you used them, but they used you too. You were just a kid.”
“I stopped being a kid at thirteen, Lexie.”
“You were just a kid to them. And you were a kid, whether you want to admit it or not, and you were hurting. You got through what happened to you because you had ambition to focus on. So you did something you’re ashamed of now … but it got you where you are. Do I wish it were different? Yes. I wish that wasn’t your past. I’m pretty sure right now you do too. But we can’t change it. It was years ago. You’re not the same person now. We just have to leave it where it belongs. In the past.”
“It’s not part of the past,” he snarled, seeming enraged by my understanding. “It’s who I am—it’s what I’m capable of! I use any means to get what I want and I don’t give a shit who I hurt in the process.”
“No.” I shook my head, not believing that for a second. “It’s not who you are. Not with me.” I reached for him, my fingers stroking through his hair as I curled my hand around the nape of his neck, trying to draw him closer. “You’re lying to yourself. You’re holding this up as a way to keep me locked out. But it’s too late. I’m in. You love me.” I smiled softly as he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against my words. “You love me,” I repeated, “and you’ll never hurt me. And I will never hurt you. I will never use you like they did, like they all did. Because I want you. Just you.” I pressed my forehead against his jaw and held on tighter to him. “No one will ever understand like I do. You’re so different with me, baby. You take care of me. You make me feel safe. You’re not who you think you are. Didn’t you once tell me that people aren’t just one thing? You’re so much more to me than anything you might have done in the past.”
“Lexie,” he said, his voice guttural, “I told you this to wake you up. A man like me isn’t capable of being your fucking white knight.” His fingers peeled my hand from his neck and he gently pressed me away.
I felt the anger boil up inside me. “I’m not looking for a hero!”
He flinched at the emotion cracking my words.
“I never asked for that.” I shook, my hands curling into fists at my side. “I just wanted you, because despite what you might think, I see you. And no, you’re no fucking white knight, but you’re what I want.”
When he said nothing I felt my whole body turn cold.
“I won’t stay,” I warned him. “I won’t try to fight for you anymore. This is it. If you walk away it’s not for me. I won’t ever think that. I will always, always blame you for this. For ruining us.”
The silence of the apartment around us seemed to stretch, expand, and thicken like a monster in the dark. For a while we just stood there facing each other as the monster destroyed any chance of the connection that would stop us from breaking apart for good. Finally Caine wrenched his gaze from mine and turned his back on me.
I walked out of the room, suturing up the gaping wound in my chest with the last of my mental and emotional strength. I made it to the guest room, wound temporarily sealed. I was determined it would stay sealed just long enough for me to get the hell out of Boston.