Confusion flickers through her eyes, and I realize then that my response isn’t what she was expecting. I’ve never dealt well with the thought of disappointing her, so even a hint of a complaint from her always led to me apologizing and falling back in line.
“I loved you, you know? All of you. I realize now that the feeling was never quite mutual, but it’s true. For years, I had a bag packed, an escape plan in mind. I stayed because I loved you enough to spare you from what Father would’ve done to you if I’d disappeared.”
I was so deeply entrenched in their deception that I didn’t realize how they’ve all been manipulating me. They took my need to belong, to be loved, and they used it against me.
“I’m here to say goodbye,” I murmur, my voice breaking. “I’ll pay for Linda and Chloe’s college tuition, because despite everything, I want both of them to have a future, but that’s it. I’m done being your puppet. I gave you a chance to walk away from Father, from this home, but you chose to stay even if it meant sacrificing my happiness and freedom. You made your decision, and I’m finally ready to accept that.”
“Faye,” Chloe says, her tone cautious.
I take a step back and shake my head. “No,” I cut her off before the usual string of defenses and excuses leave her lips. “I’m done.”
“Faye!” Linda shouts, her tone desperate. “You’ll never get away with this. Make things right, and we’ll forgive you. We won’t say a thing about what you did to Dad. We can still be a family, you know? Don’t you want that?”
I grab Dion’s hand and entwine our fingers, my heart finally at ease as I lift our joint hands. “I do have a family, at last.” I feel his gaze on me as he lifts our hands to his lips and gently kisses my knuckles. “Besides, it sounds like you don’t quite realize who I am now. I’m Faye Windsor. I had nothing to do with Father’s accident, but it wouldn’t matter if I did. I could’ve stabbed him in the heart and twisted the knife, and there’s not a single thing you could’ve done about it.”
Dion chuckles, and I look up at him to find him staring at me with pure pride in his eyes. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs.
I grin at him, not an ounce of guilt or responsibility weighing me down for perhaps the first time in my life, and he smiles back at me. “Take me home.”
Home. It’s more than just four walls. It’s safety, comfort, and acceptance. It’s him.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Dion
I know I’m dreaming when I see my mother smile back at me, the two of us wandering through the fields near our holiday cabin. I’ve got her hand in mine, and she’s so much smaller than I remember her being.
“She’ll never forgive you, you know? You’ve done your best to ignore the past, and I commend you for it, but you can’t outrun it. She’ll find out that you killed her mother, and you’ll lose her. But you already know that, don’t you? A small part of yourself is prepared for it. Isn’t that why you’ve been distancing yourself from her? You’re a monster, Dion. You were then, and you haven’t changed, have you? You’ve only gotten worse. If your brothers hadn’t shown up, you’d have gone in there, and we both know you would not have stopped until you made Faye an orphan.”
I stare at her, my heart sinking. “You know what’s the worst part of these dreams? I now have more memories of this version of you than I do of the real you, and I can no longer tell what’s real. Did you hate me then too? Do you truly blame me for what happened? Mom, do I truly deserve this?”
She’s right, of course. I do want to escape the past. I wish I could wipe the slate clean and be the man Faye thinks I am, but that’s impossible.
“You do,” she says simply. “You heard her, didn’t you? She wanted to run away from you. Do you really think that’s changed? She’s only staying because she thinks she owes you, because that’s the kind of woman she is — she’s responsible, and she’ll repay her debts, no matter what it costs her. She never chose you, Dion. She’s just making the best of a terrible situation, and you know it. Faye will never love you. How can she, when you’re her captor? You’re no better than her father.”
I let go of her hand and take a step away. “Stop it,” I warn. “You don’t know a thing about her, about us. I love her.”
“Do you?” she murmurs. “Do you even know what true love is? Do you love her, or do you want to control and possess her? Someone like you isn’t capable of love.”
I take another step back, and she smiles at me tauntingly. “Go on,” she murmurs. “Destroy her, the way you do everything else you touch. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re left holding the ruins of everything she could’ve been.”
“Dion!” I’m shaken out of my dream violently, Faye’s worried gaze roaming over my face. “Oh God,” she says, her arms wrapping around me. “I was so worried. You wouldn’t wake up.”
I blink a few times as reality edges into existence and hug her back. Sometime during the night, she climbed on top of me and pulled me upright, my clammy body pressed against hers.
“Faye.” Her name is a prayer on my lips, a plea. I bury my face against her neck as my mother’s words resound through my mind.
She pulls away a little to look at me, her hands on my shoulders. “What happened? What did you dream about? I’ve never seen you like that, Dion. You were thrashing in your sleep, begging for something and apologizing over and over again.”
I was? I don’t remember that part. With each second that passes, more of my dream fades away, but my mother’s harsh warnings stay at the forefront of my mind.
“She’s right,” I murmur. “I’ll lose you eventually, won’t I? You’ll never forgive me.”
“Forgive you for what?” she asks, her tone hesitant.
I look into her stunning blue eyes, feeling more lost than ever before. Each time my demons come out to play, I’m tempted to let them drag me to hell. That’s what a life without her would be — pure hell.
I’m at an impasse. My guilt is eating me alive, but part of me wants to put my faith in my wife. Perhaps my mother is right, but what if she isn’t? What if Faye could love me despite everything?
“I’m the reason my parents and your mother are dead.”
She freezes, her eyes widening a fraction. “Dion, they died in a plane crash,” she says carefully.
I swallow hard and nod. “I know.” Years of therapy have made it much easier to cope, to be rational about it, but I still firmly believe I’m at least partially to blame. “They wouldn’t have been on that plane if not for me, Faye. They’d gone to London because they’d been in the process of expanding the Staccato Foundation, and their negotiations hadn’t gone as smoothly as they expected.” I draw a shaky breath and lean back against the headrest, my wife still securely in my lap. “I… I had a concert. It was my first big solo concert, and I begged my parents and your mom to come back for it. I told them I’d never forgive them if I had to walk onto that stage without them, and I accused them of caring more about the kids at the foundation than about me. We had a terrible fight that racked up a huge telephone bill. Your mom tried to appease me, but I wouldn’t listen. She promised me she’d be at my next few performances, you know? Told me she wouldn’t miss them for the world, that she’d bring you too, and that you’d cheer me on together. The last thing I told her was that I hated her and my parents.”
She cups my face, forcing me to look at her. “Dion, you were twelve. Of course you wanted your parents with you for something so terrifying.”
I wrap my hands around her waist and hold her tightly, my throat burning. “They flew back early to attend my concert, Faye. You lost your mother because of me. Do you see how different your life would’ve been if she’d been there? It’s not just her you lost. I took away the childhood that rightfully should’ve been yours. I know that, and despite that, I still want more. I’ve taken so much from you, yet I still want your heart too.”
I inhale shakily and tear my gaze away, unable to face her. “Dion,” she whispers. “You’ve got it. My heart is yours. I’m yours.”
I look back at her, disbelief rendering me speechless. The way she looks at me… it hasn’t changed.
“Do you hear yourself, Dion? You were a child. You aren’t to blame for what happened to my mother and your parents. I don’t blame you. I understand the circumstances fueled your guilt, but my love, you didn’t cause that plane to crash. You, Dion Windsor, are powerful beyond measure — but you’re not that powerful. You didn’t do this.”
She pulls me closer, her legs wrapping around me as she clings to me. Something unfurls in my chest, relief hitting me hard as I hug her back, my face buried in her neck.
“How long have you been carrying that guilt?” she asks, her voice breaking. “Is this why you were running away from me for so long?”