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Hen?
It made me weak-kneed. Rock-hard. Trembling with the savage need to fall on her and kiss her stupid.
All over a ridiculous pet name.
I’d never had one of those.
No one had ever gotten close enough to shorten my already short name.
Her nickname would’ve shaken my world…if she hadn’t told me the origin of hers.
That knowledge tore into my chest with a thousand knives.
I honestly couldn’t function.
I had no idea how to survive knowing I said ‘I love you’ each time I called her Ily.
How did she keep doing this to me?
Rearranging the ground I stood on.
Tipping me over edge after edge until I lost sight of the sky and gave up fighting the fall.
I stood over her, waiting for her to snap out of her coma and start laughing at my expense again.
But she didn’t.
It seemed whatever adrenaline she’d burned through had gone.
I couldn’t help myself.
I hated that I couldn’t help myself.
Sitting back on the bed beside her, I tucked loose sapphire-black hair behind her ear and fought every urge.
Lines bracketed her mouth even in sleep.
Stress etched her forehead as if she couldn’t forget where she was and who was responsible even in her dreams.
She hates me enough to kill herself if I ever got her pregnant…
Fuck, that shouldn’t hurt so much.
I hadn’t even thought of children, yet…just knowing she’d rather die—
My eyes stung.
The urge to retch returned.
Rubbing my thumb through the tracks of salt glimmering on her cheek, I willed myself not to do it.
I begged myself not to do it.
And I cursed myself to a thousand realms of hell as I sucked that droplet off my thumb and shivered at the taste.
I lost all control as I bent over and kissed her exquisitely softly on the cheek. I didn’t care if the cameras watched me. I didn’t care that Victor might have questions. The moment my lips pressed to her tear-damp cheek and her sweet flavour soaked onto my tongue, I shuddered with an agony I’d never felt before.
I couldn’t pinpoint the origin of that despair.
