Page 57 of The Beast

Chapter Eighteen

Despite last night’s clusterfuck with Gabe, I feel surprisingly normal this morning.

Honestly, it’s a welcome change.

David and I are having breakfast in the suite’s dining area—coffee and croissants from room service, sunlight streaming through the windows, no crisis demanding immediate attention.

It’s almost peaceful. Almost like the life I thought I might have, before Gabriel walked back from the dead and set everything on fire.

“These sausages are incredible,” David says, reaching for his second one. “Remind me to tip whoever’s running the kitchen this week.”

“That would be Marcel. He’s been here since before I was born.”

“Ah, a lifer.” David grins. “Smart man. Job security and unlimited breakfast food.”

I smile, and for a moment, everything feels easy. Simple.

“I’m sorry.” I blurt out the words without thinking—apparently, I’m not happy without things being awry.

David’s brow furrows. “Whufer?” he says with his mouth full, and which I translate into what for.

“You know...” I gesture vaguely between us. “Everything. This. You.”

He swallows. “Bella.”

“You deserve better.” Now that I’ve started, I can’t seem to stop. “You deserve someone who lights up when you walk into a room. Someone who isn’t still in love with a ghost. Or whatever Gabriel is now.”

“Zombie. I mean, he’s back from the dead.”

“I’m serious.”

He sighs. “I know.” For a moment, he’s quiet. Then he leans back in his chair, studying me with those kind brown eyes. “You think I don’t know that?”

“I think you keep hoping I’ll change.”

He shrugs, but there’s pain underneath the casual gesture. “I keep hoping Global Warming will stop, too. But strangely, I don’t have as much control over the world as I’d like.” He tilts his head, looking like a mischievous kid as he says, “At the very least, I hope you noticed that I’m a big boy now.”

I roll my eyes and force myself not to laugh. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

“I know,” he says. “But come on, Bella—do you think I’ve got such a huge ego that I can’t wrap my head around not being the guy for you?”

“I—no. It’s just...” I trail off, not sure how to finish.

“Am I worried? Yeah. Gabe’s a ticking time bomb as far as I’m concerned. That’s what you should worry about. Let me worry about me.” He reaches across the table, and I let him take my hand. His grip is warm, steady. “I knew what I was signing up for, Bella. I’ve always known.”

“David.”

“No. “Hear me out. “I’d rather have you in my life as a fake wife and real friend than not have you at all. Even if it means watching you pine for a man who doesn’t deserve you.” His voice hardens slightly. “Not anymore. Maybe not ever. The Gabriel you loved? That man might have deserved you. But this version? The one who runs fight clubs and stalks you and accuses you of trying to murder him?” David shakes his head, then leans back, pulling his hand free of mine. “That man’s dangerous.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“I think you know it here.” He taps his temple. “But here?” He moves his hand to his chest. “Here, you’re still hoping he’ll turn back into the man he used to be.”

I don’t have an answer for that. Mostly because he’s right.

I hear the lock turn, then the door opens, and Harper wanders in, oversized mug in hand. “Well, this looks heavy. Should I come back?”

“No.” I sit up straighter, grateful for the interruption. “It’s fine.”