“No. I won’t cut your balls off, Jamie. I’ll leave. You’ll wake up one morning, and my things will be here. My toothbrush will be sitting next to yours. My clothes will still be in the closet. My pillow will still smell of me. There will be a thousand things here to remind you of me, but I will be gone. And I won’t be coming back. Do you believe me?”
Jamie turns his head to look at me. Our noses are almost touching. I am so in love with this this man that it kills me to say that I’ll leave him, because it would be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I mean it, though. I can’t live this way. There are some things I can tolerate if I absolutely must. I can handle feeling restricted and trapped here in the compound a lot of the time. I can deal with Shay and her stinking attitude. Even knowing that we have a homicidal Colombian woman still living in the basement under the barn is something I can live with, so long as I know she’s not getting out any time soon. But this? Feeling like I have no free will? Feeling like I can’t trust him? That just won’t fly.
Jamie’s eyes are shining brightly. His facial muscles are relaxed, but I can tell just by looking into his eyes that he doesn’t like the words that are coming out of my mouth. He huffs down his nose, his tongue poking out ever so slightly so he can rub it along his bottom lip, wetting it. “Okay,” he says softly. “Yes. I believe you.”
“So you won’t do it again? I need to hear you tell me that you won’t.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. Cade’s no longer sitting beside him, I notice. He must have slowly gotten up and crept away during the last few minutes, leaving us to our muted conversation. Eventually, Jamie blinks, his eyes narrowing a little. “I won’t say it. I can’t, Sophia.”
I stand upright, reeling away from him. I wasn’t expecting him to say that. I was expecting him to be contrite. To swear that he’ll respect my wishes and take them—me—seriously. Instead, he’s…he’s refusing? It makes no sense. “Should I just pack my bags and go now, then? Maybe that would be easier for the both of us.” I sound angry. Hurt creeps in at the edge of my voice—an annoying tell that I could burst into tears at any moment if I don’t wrangle my emotions into check and fast.
Jamie closes his eyes. “I’m not saying that because I don’t give a shit if you come or go, sugar. I’m saying it because I love you. If I have to lose you to keep you safe, then I won’t think twice. I’ll risk having to let you go if it means that you don’t end up raped and dead in a ditch with your limbs chopped off. I’d be miserable, and my heart would feel like it was never going to beat again for as long as I lived if you were gone, but I’d be happy at the same time, because I’d know you were far, far away from here and you were alive. Wouldn’t you do the same if it was me?”
I have a lump in my throat the size of Texas. If I breathe, if I even think about blinking or moving, even a millimeter, I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m conflicted, being dragged in so many different directions all at once by my emotions that I can’t decipher what I’m thinking or feeling right now. The pain in his voice upsets me. The fact that he won’t see things my way angers me. And the beauty of his sentiment makes my heart feel swollen and bruised. Almost guilty somehow. How can I be mad at him, or hold his actions against him, when he goes and says something like that?
He means every single word. There are no closed doors with him. Those crystal clear blue eyes of his allow me to see directly into his soul, and I know he’s telling the truth.
“You can be mad at me all you like. And yes, you can go whenever you like, Sophia. I won’t ever try and stop you from leaving here if that’s what you truly want. But I want you to listen to me, and I want you to really listen to what I’m about to say, okay? Can you do that?”
I feel like being stubborn and denying him his request, but when I look at him I can see how earnestly he’s asking. He’s not trying to be a dick; he’s not trying to make me angry. It’s hard to say no to the man when he’s looking at you the way he’s looking at me right now.
“Fine. Say what you want to say. I’ll listen. Properly, I swear.”