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“I can’t lose you too.” He looks up. “I loved her ... I did. But that’s not at all the truth anymore.”
I let my own tears spill.
They say the truth will set you free, but sometimes it traps you inside a prison cell beforehand.
I clear my throat, swallowing before I say, “I don’t want you to stop loving her or forget her.”
“No, you don’t get it. I said it’s not the truth. You know the one? The one no one has access to but you? I could die a thousand lifetimes, and no matter the pain, I’d always find my way back to you.”
More tears fall. “If only it were enough to make youstay,” I croak.
“It is enough. Now you know everything. No more secrets, Red.”
I shake my head. “I’m so sorry, Damon—so sorry I pushed you with this—so sorry you had to go through this alone.”
We’re both silent while I weave my hand through his hair, my mind on overdrive. “The paintings in your office and in your room—they’re hers?”
He nods. “Her family sold her studio and gave me some of her artwork. I always thought it was the accident that caused her to start painting darker, but I guess it was that fucker leaving her.”
That fucker being Gregory, the one Palmer cheated on Damon with.
“Why do you think she kept referring to you as being dark?”
He shrugs. “Not everyone likes getting spanked.”
I don’t even want to picture him doing so to another woman, no matter if she’s dead.
“You have to forgive yourself. For Harvey too. We can’t move on unless you forgive yourself.”
“How can I forgive myself if you won’t forgive me?” he whispers.
I don’t push him tonight. I don’t push myself either. I’m not naive enough to believe I’d ever distance myself from him for months at a time.
Though maybe I should.
“You’re my world. And I feel if I stay away, you’ll be safer.”
I grab his jaw. “No.” I shake my head. “I need you. Damon. It wouldn’t have mattered if you were anyone else. The drug paralyzed you. There’s nothing you could’ve done for her.”
“When Sutton told me Palmer was pregnant, I couldn’t deal with the guilt, knowing I did nothing to protect them.”
“Sutton never told you it wasn’t yours?”
“No, she never specified. That’s what she wanted—to hurt me. Why else would she give me her sister’s diaries when she recently found them? But she’s also going through a divorce, so I’m guessing she wishes even more for her sister to be alive right now.”
“Yeah, that’s possible. What about her parents? Do you still talk to them?”
He chuckles. “Of course not. Our relationship was on the rocks already after the car accident, since they kept her isolated in the hopes of keeping everything hush-hush. We drifted apart after she died. Perhaps they blamed me too.”
God.The guilt he’s harboring. It’s enough to darken anyone’s soul.
“The only reason we got away with the hit-and-run was because we live in Chicago—these things make news for a day, and then they’re over with. But if Harvey’s parents would’ve wanted retribution, they could’ve made more noise.”
“But they didn’t.”
“No,” he mutters. “They didn’t.”
“I suppose when something traumatic like this happens, they were just grateful for their son to be alive. By the time we all processed Harvey’s new way of life, six months had passed. They’re good people—not the type to seek revenge.”
