“I tell you a lot more than you need to know.”
“I’m not talking about your family and how you do things. I’m talking about us, about what it is that’s really happening between us.”
He turned to face me directly. “And what do you think is happening between us?”
“That’s what I’d like you to tell me.”
“I already did.”
“What do you mean you already did?”
He pulled his hands through his hair, frustration evident in the way his jaw ticked.
“You see, Castello, you never tell me anything. The only thing you tell me without talking in riddles is how you will never let me go.”
“Is that not enough then?”
“No. No, it’s not. I want to know why you’ll never let me go. I want to know why you are so goddamn afraid of me leaving. I want to know why you were so concerned when I fainted earlier.”
“Is it wrong of me to show concern when you’re ill?”
“No!” I spat out, my own frustration starting to get the better of me. “It’s not wrong for you to be concerned. It’s not wrong for you to not want to let me go or to be afraid I’ll leave. I just want to know why.”
Our gazes locked, and the world around us turned to gray. My heart was racing, my mouth dry as the silence between us stretched into a moment that felt like a lifetime. And while we stared at each other, Angelique’s words repeated inside my head.“Don’t try to understand him. Rather trust in him.”It was probably the best advice anyone could have given me when it came to this man. Castello was a beautiful enigma, a perfect paradox, yet no one was as perfectly imperfect like him.
Don’t try to understand him.
Tears started to prickle my eyes, threatening to escape. My heart felt too big for my chest, as if it would break through the bones at any second. The way he looked at me was almost as if he felt something. As if there was something more than just lust and selfishness inside him. But what? I needed to know what.
Don’t try to understand him.
I was first to break eye contact. The longer I stared into his eyes, the more I wanted to see into his soul.
“Thank you…for this.” I glanced around the room, feeling grateful for what he had given me, yet I felt discontented with what he had not. I wanted him to say the words. I wanted to hear him say what I meant to him.
He held out his hand with a key in his palm. “There is only one key to this room, and it’s this one. No one else will be able to enter this room without your consent, not even me.”
I took the key and held it gently between my fingers as if it could break. “I don’t know what to say.”
Castello moved, and his big frame cast a shadow over me. “I’m a selfish man, Tatum. I never claimed to be otherwise. I will never be the kind of man who lives a selfless life—especially when it comes to you. My need to own you, to be the center of your world, will always be greater than my need to be a better man.”
“Castello, you—”
“As I’ve said so many times before, I’m never letting you go, and this—” he held his hands out wide “—this room is yours, and yours alone. Hopefully it will give you the space and the freedom to spread your wings while I keep your soul chained to mine.”
In fear that I might burst out into tears, I gave a tiny step forward and pushed myself up on my toes, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. “Thank you, Castello.”
I stared up into his eyes, and the words moved to the tip of my tongue.“Two pink lines. There were two pink lines.”I wanted to say it. I wanted to tell him that out of all this death that surrounded us, we had somehow managed to create a life. There was a tiny being conceived from half of me and half of him, growing inside me, and with all my heart I wanted to tell him. But I couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling of doubt that festered in the back of my head.
What if Castello doesn’t want a child?
What if he thinks I’m trying to trap him?
What if he throws me out, discarding me as broken and used?
There were a lot of “what if’s” smashing against every corner of my mind. How could this pregnancy possibly be anything good when all of this started with such cruel intentions? I was kidnapped by the man whose baby was growing inside me. My father was murdered by the brother of the man whose baby now occupied my womb. And the man whose child I was carrying was also the man I committed the most sordid of sins with while cloaked by the darkness. Surely there was no hope for any of this to turn out well…for any of us.
I moved back. “I appreciate this, very much.” And then it occurred to me. “What is it you want in return?”