“Dahlia?” Sandra prods gently.
“My uncle is dead,” I announce, suddenly deciding that I will just go with a variation of the truth. Hopefully Sandra won’t read too much into it.
Sandra lowers her pen to pad, scribbling, and frowns. “Oh, dear, Dahlia. I’m sorry to hear that.”
I nod. I should be crying right now, but I can’t summon a single fucking tear. Or maybe I shouldn’t. I know it must look odd, but I can’t help it. “Shot in the back of his head twice.” I hate how flat my words sound, I could be talking about a piece of trash off the street.
And that’s what he was, I tell myself. A piece of trash. But that doesn’t make his murder right. And I know it. I just can’t bring myself to care. I bite my thumbnail, just trying to think straight.
Sandra shakes her head, anguish flashing in her eyes. “That’s horrible. I’m truly sorry, Dahlia.” She sets her pen down on the pad and leans forward. “Was this the uncle who hurt you?” her voice is soft and full of understanding.
I nod my head, brushing the bastard tears away. “Yes, and he’s dead now.”
“I see. How do you feel about that?”
“I…” I pause, feeling a weight on my chest, “I feel like I’m somewhat responsible for his death.”
Sandra writes something down on her notepad and then looks up at me, her face twisted with curiosity. “Why is that?”
I shrug while shaking my head. Of course I can’t tell her everything, but I feel like admitting a partial truth will help me deal with my guilt. “I just do.”
Sandra scribbles several lines and then focuses her kind eyes on me, compassion flashing in them. “You can’t blame yourself for your uncle’s death, Dahlia. It’s not healthy.”
I shake my head. “Yes, I can. It’s because of me he’s dead.”
Sandra frowns at the conviction in my voice. “Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know, I just feel responsible for it in some way.” I choke on my words. “But I don’t feel bad about it,” I admit. “Except for the guilt I feel about not caring, I feel kind of relieved actually. Like, I’m totally happy he’s dead.” The silence that follows presses down upon me, and I cringe. I hate how that makes me sound, but I can’t help it. It’s the truth. I look over at Sandra and she’s watching me, sitting very still. I wonder what’s going on in her head. “Does that make me a bad person?”
Sandra scribbles more notes down on her notepad before looking back up at me. “Considering what he did to you, no. Not at all.” She pauses as if thinking about how to formulate a question. “But now that he’s dead, do you think his death will help you?” She pauses again, but I know exactly what she means. “It’s important I document the impact that it has on you.”
Hugging my knees to myself, I shake my head. “No. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I finally was able to let that all go.” That same guilt comes back over me, but I push it away. I hate the fact that I’m happy about my uncle being dead, but I can’t help myself.
“I see.”
I cover my face with my hands as I lean forward crying. It’s because of Lucian. It’s all because of him.
“Dahlia,” Sandra’s soft voice prods me as she rises from her seat, the sounds accompanying my sobs.
He killed him for me. My heart clenches. I’m a horrible person for loving him for that. That’s truly what I feel. It’s so fucked up.
Her small hands rub soothing circles on my back. “Have you been able to talk to your partner about this?” she asks me in a small voice. ”Lucian?”
I nod my head, wiping under my eyes and reaching for the Kleenex in her hand.
“Do you think you’ll be able to confide in him?” she asks. I don’t know. My heart squeezes with pain. This is so real. It’s so much to take in. I love him. I know I love him, and I can’t bear the thought of him leaving me. The contract is over, but I’m not signing another. I want him. I want a commitment. I need it. I need him.
Chapter 29
Lucian
I gave her a chance to come back to me on her own, and she didn’t. I’m not going to wait. I refuse to.
The thirty days are over, we have no contract. This is just me and her.
I check my phone one last time before grabbing my keys and opening the door. I swing it open and my heart stops as I stare back at Dahlia. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her hair is a mess.
She came back to me. I’m still in the doorway as she looks up at me with uncertainty. I can’t believe she’s here. My heart thuds in my chest as she brushes her hair behind her ears and parts her lips.
“Lucian,” she says and her voice is soft.
“You came back.”
She visibly swallows and takes in a sharp breath. I open the door wider and step to the side. I still can’t believe she’s here. I thought I’d have to drag her back here. I’m hesitant to think anything positive though. She’s obviously not well. And we need to set ground rules. We need to make sure we’re on the same page.
She walks in slowly, her hands gripping the strap of her purse. This is either going to go one of two ways. Either she’s here to end it, or she’s here to stay. And if she’s staying, I’m never letting her go.
Her heels click, the sound reverberating off the walls of the foyer as I close the door.
“I’m struggling, Lucian.” She turns to face me, still tightly gripping the strap.
I know she is, but everything is going to be alright. “Talk to me, treasure; I want to help you.”
She takes in a shaky breath, finally putting her purse down on the table and walking toward me. I open my arms and she walks into my embrace freely. I breathe easy, feeling her pressed against me. Knowing she wants to be held by me. I kiss her hair as she nuzzles her cheek against my chest.
“I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to leave,” I apologize. “What I did was something that needed to be done. It wasn’t meant to hurt you or to make you afraid of me.”
She nods her head in my chest, but she’s quiet. I just need her to open up. I need to know what she’s thinking.
“I don’t want you to leave again. I need you to stay, treasure.”
“I don’t want to leave, I want you,” she whispers into my chest.
“Forgive me.” My voice is pained. If I had to do it all over again, I still would’ve killed him. I know I would have.
“It’s not about forgiveness. I think… I love you, Lucian. And that scares the hell out of me.” Her confession breaks the wall of insecurity between us. I breathe easily, holding her closer to me and rewarding her honesty with a sweet kiss. My lips mold to hers and I pour my passion into the kiss, needing her to feel it. My hands travel along her body, wanting to claim every inch, but she pulls away slightly, breathing heavily with her eyes closed.
I can feel a but coming. I blink the lust-filled haze away and wait for more. Just tell me what you need, treasure. I’ll give you anything.
“I’m not okay right now, and all I want is you, but it’s not the same for you…”