“It happened right after college. It’s been twisted by the media now. But my father left my mother. He left her for a girl that had just turned eighteen. In fact, though I wasn’t aware at the time, I found out later that he left right before midnight so that he could be with her—and fuck her—the minute she turned eighteen.”
The reality of what he’s saying is sinking in, and there’s sweet relief along with horror.
“She was a senator’s daughter, and the scandal tore everything apart. My mom sold her house and I moved with her to Leighton City to get away from the media. My father was arrested for statutory rape, but it couldn’t be proven so they had to drop the charges. But the public doesn’t change their minds that easily.
“The girl’s father kept them apart, even after they got married and tried over and over to be together. And after a few years of being hounded by the press, separated from his new child, he killed himself.”
I don’t dare move an inch. I barely dare to breathe. Tristan seems like he’s in a trance, and I think he needs to finish telling me this as much as I need to hear it. Like an exorcism.
“It destroyed everything. My mother never really recovered from losing him, and the media never stopped trying to do stories about us. It took years. Even now there are people who ask about it. Which is my fault since I kept his name.
“The other thing though is that I look like him. Always have. I look so much like him now that sometimes I’m startled in the morning. And when I was younger, it made me wonder about myself. If I looked so much like him, maybe I was like him.”
He holds me closer for a moment, and slowly, I slip my arms around his waist.
“Your dad knows all about it. He knew I was afraid of being like my dad and he told me that I wasn’t. And I promised him that I never would be.
“And then you happened. That night when you turned eighteen, I had never looked at you on purpose. I knew how beautiful you were and I knew that I could never, ever cross that line with you. But that night in the kitchen—” His voice cracks off with emotion. “I wanted you more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life. You painted the image of our life together and those pictures filled my mind like they were waiting for me. Like I already knew that they were right. I almost fucked you up against the refrigerator.”
“I would have liked it,” I whisper, admitting what I’m sure was painfully obvious to him.
“So would I. But you were eighteen, and I was thirty-eight, and all I could think about was that you were Bruce’s daughter, and that I swore that I would never be like my dad. And it would have been the same. I could see the headlines about the daughter of the ice cream tycoon getting knocked up by the son of Tristan Swallows—like father like son.
“I felt dirty and sick for wanting you. Like scum. But I knew if I stayed that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. So I ran away.”
I hold him tighter, everything falling into place and new tears slipping down my face for him. I wish that I would have known. That I could have spared him this pain.
He pulls back and looks at me. “I am so sorry, Nicola. I should have told you. I came back because after four years of suffering without you, I knew I had to do something different. I was going mad. And I knew that now, even though I can’t pretend that the age difference doesn’t make me nervous, you’re not eighteen. There won’t be any question of propriety when you were underage. And I didn’t think that I could live without you any longer.”
I pull his face down to mine and kiss him for real. I never should have doubted him. I never should have thought he had the capacity to deceive me like that. I’ve always known that he was good. It’s what drew me to him in the first place.
“I’m sorry that I doubted you,” I say. “I didn’t know how to feel. But you don’t have to worry about me now. I know I’m only twenty-two, but I know my own mind. I still choose you.”
Tristan kisses me hard, crushing me against his body, and the sweet undeniable relief is exhilarating and I’m crying again because I’m happy. “Take me home, Tristan.”
“What about dinner?”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to sit in a room full of people right now. I need to be with you, just us. Please.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He wraps his arm around my waist, and walks me to his car. We don’t bother with mine. There’s an unspoken agreement not to let go, and we don’t, even while he’s driving.
Now I understand why he was upset that day outside Callie’s. I had no idea what he had gone through, and the fact that he has so much guilt about it makes sense. That’s not something that he’s going to be able to let go of easily. But I think I’m going to spend the rest of my life helping him try.
12
Tristan
I feel like both my heart and body have been run over by a tractor. It’s all I can do to focus on the road in front of me.
Until the moment that Nicola said no, I thought I had experienced every kind of pain. Turns out I was wrong. I should have told her about my father before this, and the guilt that swims in my stomach over making her question me—question us—for the reasons I was trying to avoid is making me ill.
Nicola hasn’t let go of me since my confession, and she hasn’t run away either. But she’s right, I don’t think that I could take being in a restaurant right now. I need to feel her skin on mine. Be inside her and get us back to where we were. We both need that connection.
We pull up to my place, and I’m nervous. It feels like this is the make-or-break moment for us. If we get past this moment, we’ll make it. But it’s not a guarantee. Nevertheless, I don’t let go of her hand as we walk up the steps and into the house, and I try to hold her hand as much as possible even as we’re taking off our coats.
“I need to ask your forgiveness,” I tell her.
“No, you don’t, Tristan. I should be apologizing. I should have just asked instead of shutting down.”
“You never should have needed to ask,” I counter.
She smiles. “How about we forgive each other and skip to the part where we have make-up sex?”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. “Deal,” I say. “But if you have any questions or doubts, I want to know about them, Nicola. I don’t want us to ever be driven apart by something we could have talked about.”
“Agreed,” she says.
“Good. Now go to my bedroom and take off your clothes.”
Nicola raises an eyebrow. “That was pretty bossy.”
I lean closer, kissing her neck before whispering. “I’m going to be the boss for the night. And when we’re done we’re going to make sure there’s no questions or hesitation between us. Now go upstairs and take off your clothes.”
She gives me a sly smile before she goes, but says nothing. I watch the way she walks up the stairs, her hips intentionally swaying more than normal. She’s got a fucking gorgeous ass, and it’s mine. It’s always going to be mine.
As soon as she disappears I take the ring out of my coat pocket and put it in my pants. Then I head to the kitchen and pour two glasses of wine. I’m going to give her some time to breathe, and wonder what I have planned. She’ll figure it out as soon as I pin her against the wall, but I’m looking forward to the look on her face. Especially when I show her the new toy that I bought for her.