My head was spinning. I didn’t know how far this was going to go or how much I should tell him. I knew he deserved the truth. He should know what he was getting himself into. Who he was falling for. It was only right.
But if I told him, I’d be taking a chance he’d run away from me. My stomach knotted as I pictured my life without him. I didn’t know if I was capable of going back to that anymore. That thought made me realize just how far this had come. How close we’d become. My heart began to race and I felt sweat bead on the surface of my skin.
“I just need a second.”
He dropped his hands and nodded. I unwrapped my legs from his lap and shut myself in the bathroom, slamming my back against the door. “You can do this,” I whispered to myself, closing my eyes. I repeated those words over and over again like a mantra, banging my head against the door, trying to convince myself. Moving to the sink, I ground my palms to the porcelain and leaned forward, looking myself square in the eyes.
“Come on, Eva. Pull it together. You owe him this much. Fuck, you owe him everything.” I spoke to my reflection, thanking my lucky stars for a chance at normal. A chance I’d never have had without him.
He deserves the truth.
And there she was—the voice of reason.
I rolled my eyes at the face looking back at me, dampened a washcloth with cool water, and held it to the back of my neck to calm my nerves. I took ten deep breaths, feeling better by the seventh but finishing the cycle to bide my time. Deciding I couldn’t put it off any longer, I put one foot in front of the other and stepped determinedly back into the living room, removing Blake’s jacket and draping it over my forearm.
Blake was staring down at his lap. He looked engrossed in something. His leg bobbed up and down at a frenzied pace and his eyebrows pinched together, forming a hard line between them.
Then my eyes drifted to the leather bound book between his fingers as the sound of a page turning splintered my heart in two, sending it on a wild frenzy.
My journal.
Time stopped as I inched forward. Mortified, I wanted to crawl into a dark hole and bury myself. No one has ever read my journal. Not even Jace. Blake was so immersed, he didn’t even hear my approach.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He jumped as my voice cracked the silence. I threw his jacket down and snatched my most prized possession from his grasp.
Blake blinked as if seeing me for the very first time. “Is that really how you see yourself?” His eyes searched my face like he was trying to find the answer buried inside somewhere. Head tilted to the side, his features were pinched, tortured.
I tucked my hair behind my ear and dropped my gaze.
He moved to his feet and let out a shaky breath. “What happened to you?” He reached for me, and I backed away, clutching my journal to my chest.
“You had no right. What’s in there is private.” My voice cracked, escalating with each word. Tears stung the corners of my eyes.
He took another step forward, and I backed away again, but he grabbed my wrist, halting my retreat.
“Let go of me!” I shrieked, trying to yank away from him. My legs were itching to run. To protect myself.
“No!” The force in his voice shook me, stopping me dead in my tracks. His grip lightened a fraction as he caught himself and softened his tone. “No, Eva. Not anymore.” Sorrowful eyes stared back at me as he released me. “I shouldn’t have looked, okay? I know that and I’m sorry, but I did and now I can’t let it go. Talk to me, Angel.” His nickname for me was strangled as if my pain had become his pain.
That did me in.
I dropped the book and covered my eyes with my hands as the tears spilled over. My shoulders shook with force and I hunched forward, feeling as though I might heave. He was never supposed to see that. No one was ever supposed to see that.
His body wrapped around mine, his hands creating soothing circles over my back, sending me into deeper hysterics. The scars inside were so deep and one by one, they were ripping open, producing fresh wounds.
Bolting upright, I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and held myself to him for support, my tears soaking a wet patch in the center of the fabric. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed that way, but he never wavered. Never pushed me. In that moment, I think he knew I needed his stability more than anything. And he gave it to me, without question, without fail.
Eventually, he pulled back. Sliding his finger under my chin, he turned it up to him. “Talk to me. Tell me what happened to you. Someone hurt you, didn’t they?” His jaw tensed and his hands bit into my upper arms.
“You weren’t meant to see that. Just leave it alone. For me—please.” My lip trembled.