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This was a man she’d thought she’d known better than even herself. There had never been secrets between them. They knew each other so well it was sometimes like they were one entity. She had never trusted anyone the way she had Gideon Wright. He had known how hard it was for her to give her trust. He knew what she had endured. She had told him everything. And now it was apparent she hadn’t needed to, as he had likely already known.
“What do you want me to say?” Her voice was rough, her throat so dry she wasn’t sure there was enough water in the world to wash away the pain.
“Scream. Curse. Call me names. Whatever you need to do.”
“Would that be for my benefit or yours?”
He was silent, because they both knew what he wanted. He wanted her to snarl at him, give him a piece of her mind, and then get over it. Any other time they’d had a disagreement, they’d bluntly given their opinions, gotten everything out in the open, and then it had been done.
But this wasn’t a disagreement. This was the absolute annihilation of a friendship that she had treasured above any others.
“I’m deeply sorry, Eve. I never meant to hurt you.”
Pretty words could not fix this. Apologies were for things you hadn’t meant to do. This had been deliberate. A deception of the worst kind. He knew she trusted almost no one, and he knew why. And yet, he had done this to her.
She wanted to scream at him. Shout out her fury and anger. She couldn’t. Later maybe, but not right now. She glanced down at her body. For now, she was a prisoner of her injuries. A broken leg would mend. Her shoulder would heal. It would take a few weeks before she got past the dizziness caused by the concussion. The broken ribs were a painful reminder with every breath she took, but that, too, would eventually ease. In time, all of those things would go away.
This pain was here to stay.
“Is my family outside?” Her voice sounded empty and colorless, just the way she felt.
“Just your father. Your brothers are out of the country.”
“Ask my father to come in.”
“You might want to consider looking in the mirror first.”
Ugh. He was right. When had she become so comfortable and blasé about her appearance? From an early age, she had been taught that no matter how you really felt, your appearance was of utmost importance. She had pushed aside many teachings of her past, but that was one she’d always tried to adhere to. It had saved her ass on numerous occasions.
Before she could ask, Gideon handed her a mirror, a hairbrush, and her cosmetic bag. This man who had betrayed her knew everything about her. It was all she could do not to sob at the loss.
Stiffening her spine, she held the mirror in her hand and groaned. This was not good. Even a skilled cosmetician couldn’t hide the massive bruise on her cheek and two black eyes. Not to mention the tape running across her nose.
“What’s wrong with my nose?”
“You had a small gash across the bridge. Doctor sewed it up, but you might need plastic surgery to repair the scar.”
That would be a big no, thank you very much. Her first and only experience with plastic surgery had been an unmitigated disaster. Not because it hadn’t been successful, but because it had been too successful.
But that was the least of her worries right now. She raised the brush for a quick repair of her hair. Problem was, she was left-handed, and though she could shoot a gun with either hand, she couldn’t do squat with her hair with the wrong hand.
“Can I help?”
Any other time, he would have just taken the brush from her without asking and helped. His asking showed just how far apart they were now.
She shook her head and just made do with a few inept sweeps of the brush. Having him touch her right now might push her over the edge, and she had a long way to go before she allowed herself to drop that low. Only when she was completely alone would she allow herself to grieve.
She opened her makeup case, gave herself a few swipes of blush, because her light olive skin was seven shades lighter than it should be. When she saw how fake the color looked, she wiped it off with a cotton ball and closed the bag.
What did it matter how she looked? Nothing was going to make her appear less injured.
“Ask him to come in.”
“Eve, please,” Gideon said quietly. “I am deeply sorry. I was only trying to keep you safe. I never meant to hurt you.”
She allowed her eyes to roam his face, seeing his sincerity. This man—this gorgeous, handsome man who had been her confidant, her best friend, her partner, her everything for over ten years—was a fraud.
She believed he hadn’t meant to hurt her…she truly did. That changed nothing. He had lied to her, manipulated her, and made her need him. Forgiving him, no matter how he hadn’t meant to hurt her, was just not in her. He had knowingly done this all on his own.
