Shaking my head, I dart past him and out of the room. I rush down the stairs and run to the balcony. When I struggle to get the damn sliding doors open, I let out a frustrated sound.
I begin to yank at the handle, and then it’s as if I’m right back there, yanking at the boarded-up windows.
Chapter 25
CHRISTOPHER
Going after Dash, my steps come to a faltering halt when she begins to whimper like a wounded animal.
She yanks at the sliding doors, and it has me darting forward. Wrapping my arms around her, I begin to pull her away so she won’t hurt herself. The last place I want her is out on that balcony.
Dash throws her body forward, an agonizing cry tearing from her.
God, my soul. I can’t bear to see her like this. It’s flaying me open, ripping me apart.
I tighten my hold around her and clamp her to my chest. “Dash, it’s me. It’s Christopher. You’re safe.” I keep repeating the words until her cries turn to sobs, and she sags back against me. “I’ve got you.” I press my mouth to the side of her head, fighting to hold in my own tears.
She begins to calm down, enough to whisper, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” I try to assure her, my voice hoarse with heartache from seeing her suffer like this.
Dash has never kept anything from me before. We have shared every single detail. My gut was telling me she wasn’t coping, and it was right.
“Please tell me what happened. Let me in,” I beg, just wanting to help her.
“I can’t,” she gasps. “I can’t.”
I move around her so I can see her face, but the second I loosen my hold on her, she pulls away and puts a safe distance between us.
“What did he do to you?” I push her. I get a feeling it’s the only way she’s going to open up.
“I… I already told you,” she stammers.
“Dash,” I groan. “We’ve never kept things from each other. I know it’s hard to talk about it, but share it with me. Let me help you carry the burden.”
It looks like she’s in physical pain as she shakes her head. Then her expression turns pleading. “Please. Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I ask as I take a step closer to her.
She moves back, her eyes flitting around the dining and living room. “Just… just… don’t.” Turning her gaze back to me, she swallows hard.
Lifting my hand, I rub over my jaw, the stubble making a scraping sound, and then I say, “I just want to help you.”
It’s starting to feel like the problem lies with me.
DASH
For a long moment, we stare at each other in silence. Then I see something break in Christopher’s eyes, and he takes a step toward me. He stops himself, looking torn.
A moment later, he loses the battle that’s been waging inside him, and in three long strides, he grabs hold of me, yanking me to his chest.
Unable to keep the tears back, they begin to flow until I’m a sobbing mess in his arms.
I’m so sorry. I wish I was stronger.
I hate what this is doing to him.
Christopher moves us to the couch, and when we sit down, I use the back of my hand to dry my cheeks.
As silence fills the air, I know I can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair to Christopher. He deserves someone who’s… not broken. A lost sob flutters over my lips, making me sound pitiful.
Christopher deserves a trophy wife.
Swallowing hard, I gather whatever courage I can and say, “I’m really sorry. For everything. You deserve so much better.”
Than me… this broken woman I’ve become.
He keeps quiet, and with his eyes resting intensely on me, he waits for me to continue.
I swallow hard. “I… I feel like… I’m stuck there.”
“But you know you’re safe, right?” he asks softly.
I nod as I stare down at my hands in my lap. “I’m sorry.” My voice falters as I admit, “I didn’t want to upset you.”
He begins to reach for my hands but then pulls back. “Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”
I shake my head, my shoulders slumping. “No. It’s just… me.”
“You don’t feel any better?” I hear an edge of despair in his voice, and it just breaks my heart more.
“I’m just… I just feel… scared… all the time, and like it’s only a matter of time.”
“A matter of time before what?” he asks.
My shoulders slump even more, and I shake my head, not able to say the words.
Christopher turns his body to face mine. “A matter of time before what happens, Dash?”
Not having the courage to say it out loud, I whimper, “I can’t.”
“You can,” he urges. “Tell me. Please.”
It feels like if I say the words out loud, they will come true. A sob drifts over my lips, sounding lost and fragile, as I whisper, “Before you leave me.”