While he’s proven his love and regret in a million huge and tiny ways, I’ve never atoned for what I did to him. Sure, I apologized even though he hadn’t. But I understand now that it wasn’t about what I did so much as what it meant. It doesn’t matter that only Baron and Duke learned his secret. It doesn’t matter that they never told anyone else, that there were no consequences for him in terms of his reputation or status. The betrayal itself is what hurt him, broke the last bits of his soul, when he dared to believe I genuinely cared. How can he believe I do when he thinks I faked the whole thing?
I haven’t shown him love in the way he’s shown me. I haven’t said it, and I haven’t moved worlds for him, not even after he gave me exactly what I needed to heal without me having to say a word. Every step of the way, he’s been there for me. In return, I made less than a halfhearted attempt and then moved on.
I thought I’d find out who assaulted him, and that it would help him. But he’s already gotten revenge on the Darlings. I could bring him Grandpa Darling and tell him what Preston told me, but his revenge has never helped anyone, least of all him. He could have killed Grandpa Darling, but he chose to let him live to suffer longer. He doesn’t need me to deliver his revenge to him. And revenge won’t fix what’s wrong. Not with Royal, not with the Dolces, not with this town.
More bloodshed, more revenge isn’t the answer. It only makes things worse. Royal’s destroyed the entire Darling family, but it hasn’t quenched his thirst for revenge. It only grows. Nothing will ever or can ever be enough because nothing has brought him the one thing he wants—not revenge, but his sister.
He doesn’t need to find his attackers. He needs to find himself.
He doesn’t need more violence. He needs the antidote. He needs healing.
Just as I found myself again when we came back together, I have to help him do the same. I found my strength, not away from him, but with him. Not alone, but with friends who let me be vulnerable, who back me up so I no longer have to do it alone. Letting them in didn’t make me lose myself or make me weak. It helped me find myself and see the power and strength in having people to support me and have my back. And he’s the one who made it all happen, who gave me his strength when I had none until I was strong enough to go on, to raise myself from the dead and rebuild my life, not as it was, but better.
Now it’s time I used that strength to do the same for him. Forgiving him didn’t make me weak. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and it required more strength than I knew I had, made me stronger than I’ve ever been. Now, I will heal him and make him better, just as he did me. Because he might not believe it, but I love him as much as he loves me.
I will give him what he needs just as he’s done for me. I’ll let him know I truly see him and love him for exactly who he is. I’m not here for the money or anything else. I just want him, monster and all.
And I won’t show him by helping him find more Darlings to complete his revenge. That’s never helped before, so why would it make things better now?
I could try to heal this town by killing his father or even Baron, but I know Royal would never recover from losing another sibling. He gave me chances, and I know he wouldn’t have stopped me from killing his brother. I could have done it, destroyed him even more thoroughly than he destroyed me. I finally know how to break him completely, how to bring him down, and it’s too late.
I don’t want to hurt Royal more. The hurt he’s already suffered has been raining down on this town for three years. In some fucked up way, I still have hope for him. I have to. I will never give up on him, just as he never gave up on me. And hurting his family will only make things worse, not just for him, or me, but for this town. He’s a monster rampaging through the land in his pain, searching endlessly for the one thing he’s lost that can never be returned—the other half of himself. When he doesn’t find it, he lays waste to everything in his wake. There’s no way to stop him because he can never find peace.
What if he could, though?
sixteen
Harper Apple
When we walk into the kitchen the next morning, the twins are already up and sitting at the breakfast nook. A sense ofdéjà vusweeps over me, and the morning after I first fucked Royal rises in my memory.
Duke shoves a chair out with his foot and grins at me. “If you’re living here, does that make you our stepsister?”
“Gross, no,” I say, scooting in at the table and surveying the spread of bagels, fresh fruit, and orange juice.
Baron watches me while he spreads cream cheese from a little crystal dish onto half a bagel.
“I’m not opposed,” Duke says. “Some of my favorite porn has dudes nailing their stepsisters.”
“Shut up,” Royal snaps at his brother.
“It’s fine,” I say, nudging the chair next to me. He pulls it out and sits, glaring across the table at the twins. I think again how much it must suck for Royal to live here, protecting these heathens by sacrificing himself when they don’t deserve it.
“Too bad,” Duke says. “That would be pretty hot, since we’ve all banged you.”
Royal starts to stand, but I lay a hand on his thigh. He won’t always be here to get between us, so I need to establish myself now. He must understand that, because he frowns but doesn’t go over the table at his brother.
“You didn’tbangme,” I say. “You raped me. Making jokes about it doesn’t change what happened.”
“What makes you think that was a joke?” Baron asks, cocking his head and watching me intently.
“Based on the lack of actual funniness, I guess it wasn’t much of a joke at all,” I agree.
“I thought it was funny,” Baron says.
“I’d expect nothing less of you,” I say, raising my chin and refusing to drop his gaze. “But your brother was sobbing like a bitch about it the other day, so I know he doesn’t think it’s funny. He just doesn’t want you to call him a pussy.”
Duke’s eyes widen, and a panicked look crosses his face.