“Living like a homeless person in my former home?” She doesn’t lose that light-hearted smile. “Well, when did we last speak? Oh yeah, the night you walked out on me because someone drugged me and took photos of me half-nekkid. The night before my dad died.”
Her matter-of-fact tone doesn’t stop each statement from slamming into me like a bullet. Drugged her? What the—
“Our relationship is super fucked up, Logan,” she adds, and smacks her lips as she eats the chocolate bar. “But,” her voice softens. “I’m glad you’re not wearing the mask. I saw you at the funeral without it.”
“Enough.” I growl before she continues in this ridiculous vein and compliments my neck beard. “Daphne, nothing’s changed between us. Tell me why I should trust you.”
“Oh, so now you’re willing to listen?” she raises a brow.
I swallow. “I was wrong. I should’ve listened before.”
“Yes, you should’ve,” she says, settling cross-legged on the pile of curtains. “From the very start and every time afterwards, you should’ve listened to me before flying off the handle. I know I didn’t handle things well and you had reasons for your questions. Good reasons. But I didn’t deserve what you did to me.”
“You liked everything I did—
She waves a hand impatiently. “I’m not talking about all that. I did love that. I do. I love everything you’ve given me. The truth is, Logan, I love you.”
She loves me. Bright sunshine bursts inside my chest even as a voice in the back of my mind screams, can’t trust her, can’t trust her, can’t trust—
“But part of becoming the woman you’ve helped me discover, is that I refuse to be treated badly. I’ve done everything in my power to prove my devotion and loyalty. But it’s never enough. You’ll always believe outside voices over mine. I was drugged, my privacy violated, and you believed my accusers over me. Do you know what that feels like?”
Just like that, I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut. I never even thought about that before and—
“Remember that night in the labyrinth?” she continues relentlessly. “Remember what happened to me?”
I crouch down to get closer to her level, and also because I don’t feel so steady on my feet as the pieces come together. “You fainted. You were drugged.”
She touches her forehead with a finger and flicks at me. Much like Armand did. Have they been hanging out?
Jealousy snarls through me but I push it aside to process what she’s saying. “You were drugged.” I can’t believe I didn’t guess it before now. Maybe I am as slow as Armand insinuated.
“Yep.” She pops the ‘p’. “You get one guess as to who did it.”
“Adam.” I straighten in the doorway. My hands come up as if grabbing an imaginary man to rip apart. “I'll kill him.” I told myself I was going to that engagement party to protect her but all I did was leave her vulnerable. All I could see was my stupid revenge and he, he—
Daphne rises too and approaches me without fear. “That’s not the whole story. After you and I had our little conversation, I got news that my dad was dying. I had no idea his health had gotten so bad. Adam didn’t want me to know.”
“What?” I feel my face and neck flaming red. Like gasoline poured on my rage.
“It didn’t work. I talked to dad before he died.” She cups my face in her hands. Her touch calms the Beast. “Logan, he told me he was sorry for how things turned out. For what he and Adam did to you.”
“He...did?”
And the blows just keep coming. I barely get my balance before another blow all but knocks me off my feet.
“He did.” Her voice is gentle. Kind. “Unfortunately it was too late for me to get more details, so I could get proof or a confession against Adam, but if we dig, I bet we can find it.”
We?
My heart leaps. She’s talking about the future. Our future. But I failed her, over and over. How can she—?
“So that’s everything that happened,” she says, “until Tuesday happened.”
“What happened Tuesday?” Fuck, I’m not sure how much more I can take.
“That’s when I met with the board. They voted me out. But I still gave them copies of this.” She spins around to dig in her bag until she comes up with a sheet of paper, neatly folded.
I snatch it and read it with my phone’s flashlight. “You...resigned?”
“Yep.” Her voice turns more serious. “I have nothing, Logan. Not a thing. Just two dead parents, my degrees, and the Avicennius grant. Except that I sent you those two pieces of paper. So, technically, nothing. I have nothing, Logan.” She doesn’t look sad or bitter. She looks… calm. At peace. “I’m finally free. Completely free.” She flops her arms outwards. “It only took losing everything,” she laughs.
It doesn’t change the fact that she’s squatting in the ruined shell of her childhood home. Like a homeless person. Even in my great coat, she looks cold.
I’ve been the world’s biggest asshole.
This, in front of me, is my Daphne, the same as she ever was. Innocent of the world’s malice. Pure in all the ways that matter. She wasn’t trying to play rivals against one another or win fame or fortune. She has nothing and yet she still manages to be happy. And after everything I did, she can still look in my monster’s face and without batting an eye tell me she loves me.
She’s a fucking angel gracing this earth in a sexy-as-sin body.
“Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that. Thank you for coming.” She pats the pockets of my coat, pulls out the papers and the rose. “I had a hell of the time convincing Armand to leave me here. He made me swear up and down I’d call him if you didn’t show up.”
“I’ll call him,” I say quickly.
“Are you jealous of Armand? Don’t be.” She lays everything on the table, then pulls on a pair of gloves. They look too large, but at least it’s something. She still looks cold, though. I don’t like it.
“You can’t stay here,” I say gruffly.
She raises a brow. “You’re kicking me out?”
“Yes… No! I’m not kicking you out. I mean, you should be at the castle, with me.”
“You hurt me, Logan.” Just a whisper, and it’s a dagger through my chest. I stumble back and lean against the door frame so I don’t fall to my knees.
“I know.” I tear a hand through my hair. My face feels naked without the mask. “I don’t trust easy. Or at all.”
“You haven’t had reason to,” she murmurs.
“No, don’t do that.” I point at her. “Don’t make excuses for me. I’m a monster.”
“You’re my monster.” She sways forward slowly, carefully, as if approaching a wild animal.
“I don’t know what I can do to earn your forgiveness.” I can’t believe all this time I was trying to make her prove her love and devotion to me, when I should have been begging at her feet the entire time.
“You don’t have to earn my love, Logan. I’m giving it to you.”