Page 88 of Vow

Haven barked out a bitter laugh, and wiped the stray tears from her cheeks. “It’s exactly what I think it is, Andino. You’re getting married.”

“It appears like—”

“Married!”

Andino glanced away, and shook his head. “You’ve got to let me talk for five seconds. Just let me talk, Haven.”

No. She really didn’t want to hear anything he had to say at all.

“Was it all this time? Was this happening since the beginning?”

Her voice came out raspy and aching. That happened when you cried this hard; when you hurt this much.

Andino’s jaw ticked. “You know better than that.”

“Fuck you,” Haven spat. “I don’t know anything about you at all. You’ve shown me that time and time again. When someone shows you who they are, believe them. Right? That’s how the saying goes. My fucking mistake, Andino. It won’t happen again.”

Taking a wide step back, she grabbed the edge of the door and prepared to slam it closed. He could stay right where he was for all she gave a damn. Far away from her, and on the outside of her life. Forever.

“Go away, and stay gone,” she told him.

She swung the door to close it, but no fucking surprise, Andino was there to stop it. His hand crashed into the door, and pushed it open hard. The force was enough to make Haven stumble in an effort to move away fast enough so that it didn’t hit her.

The fucking asshole.

“Get out!” she screamed.

If he heard her—and there was no way he didn’t—Andino acted like she didn’t say a thing. He slammed that door behind him, and swung around on her. Haven was already reacting; her emotions hit their limit.

She broke.

Her palm connected with his face with a slap that echoed and sent his head snapping to the side. The red imprint of her hand left behind said he had to feel it, and all Haven felt was the greatest sense of satisfaction at that fact.

Good.

He should feel it.

Like she did.

Andino sucked air in through his teeth that sounded like a hiss before his hands were on her. One grabbing firmly to her waist, and the other curving around her neck. She couldn’t even protest before his lips crashed against his.

She didn’t want to respond. She wanted to push him away, and hit him again. Yet, her anger was only stroked tenderly from a small flame into a raging inferno with his kiss. The rage wrapped tightly around the lust and love she always felt for this man whenever he was near.

His kiss was not like it used to be, though. It was something wilder—something more desperate. Hard enough to hurt, and crazy enough to take her breath away. His fingers dug into the back of her neck like his hand on her waist, and he dragged her impossibly closer.

If he wasn’t such a good liar, she might think he was trying to give her his soul with that kiss. Like he was offering it in bleeding, blackened hands for her to take.

Except he was who he was.

She believed nothing.

“I love you,” he said hoarsely when he finally pulled away. “I love you so fucking much, Haven. I love you too much. I love you enough to destroy everything, but you don’t know that at all because I haven’t been able to tell you. I love you, woman. Let me explain—let me show you. Don’t you get it? Just let me—”

Sure, and quiet, and strong, Haven whispered, “You don’t love me at all. Love doesn’t do these things to someone else. This isn’t love.”

“Haven.”

God, why did he have to sound like that?