Page 165 of Black Light: Cured

woman. That rests on your shoulders, and your shoulders alone.”

Murmurs of agreement smatter through the area, and I watch Aiden flinch at my words. “You are

correct. The mistake was entirely my own.”

“So then why are you here? To hurt me some more? Trust me, I’m a masochist, but even I have my

limits.” The bitter tone sits like ash in my mouth, but it’s the truth. “I could have endured almost

anything you could give me, except your rejection.”

Eyes flit between the two of us as our drama plays out on the main stage. Exhaustion creeps into

my limbs as I once more try to leave the situation. It’s not fair that they won’t let me leave and lick my

wounds in private.

“I was wrong.” Aiden’s voice is loud, booming in my ears as he makes another admission.

“About what exactly?”

“So, so much. But let’s start with the basics.” Pausing, he runs his hand along the back of his neck

for a moment. “You’re far more than I’ve given you credit for. I’ve let my prejudice give me an unfair

view of who you are and what you do. I never admitted how much I care for you, love you, because I

was afraid you’d break my heart. My fear kept me locked in a cage, not allowing me to show you just

how much you mean to me.”

Tears prick my eyes as he stands there, pouring his heart out, not only to me, but to everyone else

there. There’s still one thing I have to know. “Why did you leave?”

“Because I’m an idiot. Plain and simple. I thought that I was putting you and your needs first, but it

was just a smokescreen for how terrified I was of love. Stupidly, I thought being self-sacrificing

would make it all better. The job was just a means to an end, but it’s not why I left. There is nothing

good in Dallas without you.”

The tears I’ve been trying to hold back stream down my cheeks as I clench my fingers into fists,

trying to keep myself from running to him, to ease the pain that’s so evident in his voice.

“You were a phantom that never left, an aching part of me that never went away,” he says. “I

buried myself in my work, lying to myself that the pain would eventually subside. But it never did.”

“It never did for me either,” I admit, sniffling every other word. “But you were gone. I thought you

were never coming back. Hell, I thought you found someone else to play with. Someone else—”

“No,” he growls out. “There was never anyone else. It was only you. When I realized I couldn’t

breathe, couldn’t function without you by my side, I demanded that they add you to the contract,