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I chewed my mouth and he touched my jaw, stopping me.
“Because you are all I’ve ever wanted, Merrick,” I said. “I don’t think having children together is part of our story.”
He bent, brushing his lips against my forehead.
“I don’t think so either,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’m still going to give it a few years before I do anything permanent.”
“Permanent?”
“Like getting snipped.”
“Oh,” I said softly. “Okay, I think that’s a good idea. Waiting for a bit, just to be sure.”
I met his gaze and it hit me that Merrick wasn’t alright. He was doing everything he could to stay calm and in control, but when I gazed into his eyes, I saw a flicker of something haunting.
Pain. Grief. Shock.
My jaw jerked and I bit down hard on that spot. Too hard. Blood filled my mouth and I felt it slip down my chin.
“Fuck,” Merrick said, shooting to his feet and grabbing a towel. He cradled my head, pressing the towel to my mouth. “Jesus, baby, why do you do that to yourself?”
I couldn’t speak. He pulled me close and gently pried my mouth apart, revealing the mangled scar inside my lower lip.
“Cariad,” he whispered.
I told him how my father had put a gun to my head and he was quiet, eyes fastened to me. When I was done, he picked me up and carried me to the upstairs bathroom and set me on the sink.
I winced as he dabbed my mouth with a cold washcloth.
“Are you just…not going to say anything?” I whispered.
He glanced up and I saw that deadly violence in his eyes. This time it didn’t scare me.
“I wish I had killed him,” he said flatly.
My whole body went still. It was the first time I’d ever heard him speak badly of my father.
“Do you actually?”
He nodded once. “But we’re not talking about this right now.”
True to his word, he shut up and refused to speak of it. It was a little strange for him and I could tell there was something he wasn’t telling me. But I was spent, completely worn out.
He ran a hot bath and slid into it with me, pulling me onto his lap. Wrapping my legs around his waist and laying my head on his shoulder.
“I adore you,” he said.
His words didn’t heal us, but they were the first step there.
“I adore you too,” I whispered.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
MERRICK
I told her about her father in the car on the drive back. It took everything I had not to let the bitterness creep into my voice. Not to reveal how fucking betrayed and disoriented I felt knowing a friendship I valued so deeply was fake.
Knowing I’d been so eager to trust that I’d let myself be used for years.
