Page 98 of Retrograde

I’m someone who does what he knows is right. Even when it’s hard, even when it hurts, even when everything inside me revolts against it. I’m a paradox, a rebel who likes rules. Not rules others have tried and failed to impose on me but rules I set for myself in the stone that used to be my heart.

Once the rules are set, they are followed, and in all its messy glory, life becomes surprisingly simple.

And the rules are clear. Once a traitor, always a traitor. There cannot be anything in between. There has only ever been one way this could have ended up.

I just didn’t know we’d both hate it.

37

RILEY

Isaid the wrong thing. I only meant to relieve some of Aron’s obvious stress. But the moment the words are out of my mouth, his whole face changes. Anything that was human in it withdraws and disappears, leaving it harsh and devoid of any emotion except for silent, simpering rage.

“Riley,” he addresses me, his voice cold and lifeless. “What the fuck do you think this is, huh?”

He approaches the bed, looming over me. I refuse to back off. I will not let him scare me away. I will not let him intimidate me into pretending that this thing between us is meaningless. It is not for me. And I have to believe it isn’t for him either, no matter how much he might try to deny it.

“Do you think I’m your boyfriend, Riley? Do you think this is a relationship?”

I don’t protest when he grabs my hair, wrapping it around his fist.

“Do you think I care about what you want? About keeping you happy?”

He yanks at my hair, but I don’t as much as wince.

“Do you think this is some fucking fairy tale where I fall in love with you despite everything, and we live happily ever after?”

Keep your dignity. Be honest. Be vulnerable. He likes you vulnerable.

“I was hoping for that, yes.”

His mouth twists in a humourless, lop-sided smirk, and his fingers close around my throat, their grip so merciless that I gag. But I keep my eyes locked onto his.

“Idiot girl. Whatever the fuck gave you that idea?”

I wince at the insult and the mocking cruelty in his voice.

“The way you were with me.” My voice may be choked and fragmented, but I manage to keep it steady.

He lifts me by my throat like I weigh nothing—like I am nothing—my knees barely touching the bed.

“When?” he demands harshly, his face inches from mine, his breath hot on my lips. “When I kept you in a cage? When I made you kneel in gravel until your knees bled? When I painted the inside of your holes with my cum like you only existed to absorb my messes?”

He releases me in a vaguely disgusted motion, like he’s letting go of something repulsive he touched by accident. I crumple onto the bed in a heap, legs splayed underneath me.

“You hurt me in some ways, but you healed me in ways that mattered much more,” I say quietly, willing my eyes to stay dry. “And I think you know that.” I forget how to breathe, the words like razors in my mouth. “I think that underneath that skull mask, there is a very kind, caring man who wants to love someone, even more than he wants to be loved back.” My heart is galloping, and my vision is spotting as I force out an admission through my lips that I swore I’d never say out loud. “And he is loved back. Because when I saw that man, Aron, I ... fell in love with him. I fell in love with you.”

His face changes again. Human emotion returns only to die, to disappear in an agonising, violent way that seems permanent and irreparable. I recoil inwardly, desperation clawing at me from all sides.

“You shouldn’t have,” he tells me coldly. “But you were meant to.”

I wither on the inside, the first promise of tears a salty sting in my throat like the smell of ozone in the air before a storm.

“What do you mean?” I ask, needing to know the answer, but not wanting to know it at the same time.

“What do you think?” he retorts, and when I stay silent, processing my shock, he elaborates, “Riley, I like fucking you. But that doesn’t mean I like you.” A cruel sneer carves itself onto his face like an ugly gash.

“You acted like you did,” I protest. “More and more often.”