Page 46 of Ballrooms & Blackmail

I can picture him standing in front of a castle, wind blowing through his hair, storm clouds overhead.

But even in that younger Thorn, I sense a wealth of sadness.

What had happened to him? What had wounded him so deeply?

“Do you ever think about going back?” I ask.

“No.”

The answer comes instantly and it’s final.

Not angry. Just…certain.

I nod slowly as understanding flows through me. Because there are some places people can never return to, some places that one must simply survive and never look back on.

God, I understand that too well.

Thorn’s gaze locks with mine. “Your turn.”

My stomach tightens immediately and I want to run…or at the very least, to avoid this conversation.

But as I battle with myself, Thorn just waits.

There’s no pressure. No demands. Just patience.

Ugh.

Why does he have to be so wonderful?

Exhaling, I stare down at Violet sleeping across my lap and give him a small part of my past. “My ex used to hate movies,” I whisper. “He said they were childish.” I shake my head. “That fiction books are too.”

Only the driest of the most dry nonfiction and war biographies were acceptable to Preston.

Everything else was just trash.

I was just trash.

Thorn doesn’t reply, but I know he’s paying absolute attention.

So, I force myself to keep talking. “He didn’t like a lot of things.” I laugh, but it’s humorless, edged with the painful memories. “Mostly, he didn’t like the things I liked.”

Thorn’s hands tighten into fists.

“He had rules,” I continue softly. “Schedules. Times for me to be quiet.” I pick absently at the sleeve of my sweater. “I thought if I did everything right, he’d stop being angry all the time. That he’d stop hurting me.”

Pain flashes across Thorn’s face so quickly I almost miss it—almost as if he knows exactly what I mean.

Exactly what I mean.

“You were never anything but perfect,” he rasps and the certainty in his voice nearly undoes me.

Because he says it like it’s obvious, like it’s true.

God, I want it to be true.

For him. For me.

I stare at the TV without really seeing it. “I used to rehearse conversations before he got home from work.”