Thirty Nights (American Beauty #1)

Blood drains from my face as he confirms my worst fear: this lovely evening was simply a means to an end.

“Please, don’t!” The words whoosh from my mouth like a final breath. I try, really, really try to fight the tears brimming in my eyes. How can he take all this away? All this life teeming inside me, it will go dark if he is not around. And the calmness I give him, that will go away, too.

“Elisa, look around you,” he says. “What do you see?”

“The most beautiful night of my life,” I answer with no hesitation.

He nods as though that’s the answer he expected. “That’s what I hoped it would be. But, baby, this here—this is the best that it would ever get for us.”

I frown, trying to see where he is leading me. “If this is the best, you’re failing miserably at showing me why I shouldn’t be with you.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m not. I can do all this for you. Ship roses across the world, buy you dresses that no one but me will see, rent bookstores for you. But that’s all I can give.”

I open my mouth to protest but he clamps his hand on it gently. His fingers are cold.

“Listen, please. At the end of each night, no matter how beautiful I make it, you will sleep alone and it will hurt more because the evening was so perfect. And during the days, you will be torn in half, choosing between your family and me. It will be graduation parties and holidays and birthdays first. Then gradually, you will get sucked in my world, camping here on this hilltop with me. I cannot give you your own family. I won’t give you children just so that Daddy can break them by accident. One by one, you will lose everything. And this is the best scenario, if I don’t hurt you first. I cannot give up my structure, Elisa, and I refuse to buy you life just so that I can steal it.”

His eyes are focused, determined. His hand presses firmly on my mouth but for once, he does not need to silence me. I am stunned on my own. The world has gone strangely blank. No Pink Martini, no wind. Even the scent of Aeternum has faded. The ice from his hand spreads to the rest of me and I shudder.

It may seem odd that none of his warnings about physical danger have deterred me, yet this image of isolation finally breaks through. But when I think about it, it really is not odd for a girl like me. There is nothing injury or death can give me that I have not survived, and even craved before. But losing the only semblance of a family—losing my second chance—how can I go through that again?

Of its own volition, the silver heel of a Louboutin slides back a step. Away from him. He closes his eyes and removes his hand. Maybe he saw the change in me or maybe he is having a change of his own. Whatever it is, I need to think. I turn away from him and run out of the tent.

The wind whips my hair on my face as I try to calm my breathing. I look at his Alone Place. Can I be with him on these terms? And what happens if I do? I will lose the Solises, Reagan, new friends I have not yet met, and in the end, even him. No! I should go. I should leave right now.

I try with all my strength to take a step forward on the hilltop. My muscles recoil from the idea. The world goes blank again as if my senses register Aiden’s impending absence and refuse to acknowledge anything else but him. All I can see in the dark night is a beautiful, tormented man who has moved roses across continents for me, who has brought me to life in every sense of the word. My heels sink in the grass. I can’t leave. I have to at least try. Maybe if he allows himself some normal, happy memories, they will balance out the bad ones, and with time, replace them.

I take a shuddering breath and enter the tent. He has not moved an inch—his face still grave. I stride across the dance floor to him, surprised my knees can support me.

“Should I drive you home?” he asks, his voice almost hoarse.

I take his hand. “Not tonight. I want to find out on my own.”

His lips press in a thin line and he closes his eyes.

“I learn by trying, not by telling, Aiden.”

When he opens his eyes, they start lightening to turquoise. His lips lift into a defeated smile.

“Scientist through and through.”

“A major genetic flaw, according to my mum.”

“So where does that leave us?”

I lock my fingers with his. “I believe you called it a ceasefire.” I reach on my tiptoes to kiss his scar.

He sighs, whether in pleasure or frustration I don’t know. And for now, I don’t want to find out. I trail kisses along his tense jaw to the corner of his mouth.

“Kiss me,” I say.

He truly smiles now. “One temporary victory and you’re already giving me orders?”

“Yes.” I fist my hands in his hair, pulling him close. “Now, no more talking from you tonight unless it’s dirty!”

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