He closed his eyes, halting the progress of the hand he’d lifted, hoping beyond hope that she wouldn’t flinch away, that she’d reach for him despite the fact that she hated him with the same passion with which she’d once loved him. He wanted that back. God, he was perilously close to begging. No one had ever loved him until Evangeline. His generous, loving angel who didn’t give a damn about his money, his power, the expensive gifts he’d showered her with or the entire wardrobe that cost more than she made in five years. She’d simply wanted him and the one thing he couldn’t offer her. His love. And his trust.
And now he had no hope of ever regaining either.
“Angel,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “You have every reason to hate me, to despise the very sight of me. What I did was unforgivable. But I had no choice. Please give me a chance to explain. If after, you still hate me, if you still want me out of your life, I’ll let you go. It will fucking kill me, but I swear to you I’ll let you go and you will never want for anything for the rest of your life whether I’m a part of it or not. You will never have to work in these conditions. You will be financially secure. I’ve already seen to it even though I know it isn’t what you want from me. You’ve never wanted anything from me but . . . me. Give me a chance, Angel. God, give me a chance to make this right. So that you’ll want me again. Just me and nothing else. I will never doubt you, I never have. But I will make damn sure you never have reason to doubt me again.”
“Bitch.”
“Whore.”
“Worthless.”
Her whispered words, so much agony inflected into every single one, words he’d thrown at her, direct arrows that had crippled her self-confidence, nearly destroyed the thin string to which he was clinging desperately. The one that was keeping him from losing all vestiges of his control. Because those words he’d thrown at her were now darts directed back at him, each piercing him like a kill shot.
He had recognized it in the restaurant, that awful evening that seemed a lifetime ago, that what he’d done to her had been far worse than the damage inflicted on her by Eddie, her ex. But knowing and seeing were two different things, and now he was seeing her, seeing just how much he’d ripped her to pieces and destroyed something so utterly beautiful and innocent.
“That’s what I was to you, Drake,” she said, still whispering, her body shuddering violently with each broken breath.
“No!” he shouted, making her flinch and recoil from the raw fury in his voice.
Her eyes were wide with fear, uncertainty, and so much pain, pain he well understood because he’d been living in hell from the night he’d betrayed her. But even knowing the anguish he’d suffered, he knew it in no way compared to her pain and suffering, and that only gutted him even more because never had he wanted to cause her such pain and ugliness. He’d made a sacred vow to himself. Vows. And he’d broken both as surely as he’d broken her.
“Never,” he said savagely. “They were lies, Angel. Terrible, ugly, necessary lies. Oh God, if I could only go back, if I could only have that day back. I would have made certain you were never involved, never exposed like that. In my arrogance I thought I could keep you safe and separated from that aspect of my life. It’s a mistake I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. I know you can never forgive, but God, please, I’m begging you. Give me the chance to explain, to try to make you understand the world I live in. A world I should have never allowed you into, but I could no more deny myself your sweetness and light than a starving man could refuse food and water. Angel, you were—are—the only good thing in my life, and God help me but I couldn’t do the right thing and let you go. I had to have you. I needed you. I still need you.”
Her brow furrowed, her expression perplexed. Her eyes were bewildered as she took in the anguished words he’d delivered with so much emotion and self-loathing. She seemed to filter through each and every word he’d said, her expression ever changing as she processed the conflicting statements. He didn’t even know if he’d made any goddamn sense. All he knew was that he was desperate and he would do or say anything to get her to come home with him.
“Necessary? Necessary?” she repeated, her face creased with pain. “It was necessary for you to humiliate me, to strip me bare in front of those m-men, to debase and degrade me, make me feel like a worthless whore?”