Page 80 of Injustice and Absolution

Why did I even give Royce the time of day?

Old habits die hard, and this one just about killed me.

I wait for Drew to go upstairs and leave me here. I won’t dare to enter the bedroom tonight in an effort to give him his space. But when he next speaks, my heart feels like it’s breaking all over again.

“Delilah...” There is no anger in his voice now. No discontent in his tone. Only a wistful sadness that matches the turmoil in my soul. “I hate to see you like this.”

As much as I want to, I can’t look at him. Not until all traces of shame disappear from my conscience.

“Hey,” he says, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

I feel his body settle onto the ground next to mine.

“I told you … the idea of you with someone else... It drives me fucking crazy, Delilah.”

When my only response is the hitch in my breath as I fight back another sob, he takes action.

“Hey, look at me.” He tugs my head from my knees then lifts my face so he can see me.

And I’m forced to see him. Anger gone as if the past twenty minutes never happened. Once again there is anguish in his stare.

“If you hadn’t hurt me tonight by letting him touch you, and by lying to me, you wouldn’t be so upset right now. Would you?”

Without hesitation, I shake my head, accepting responsibility for my actions.

“Come here,” he commands before lifting me onto his lap.

He positions me so I’m straddling him, the lips of my pussy draped over his cock like a blanket. I feel him harden beneath me, and I’m surprised he could be ready to go again so soon. I try to curl my body to his chest, begging silently for comfort, but he holds me in place so I'm forced to look at him head-on.

“Hold on. I need to see you to make sure you understand,” he explains.

The way he speaks to me is reminiscent of a parent—a father—requiring an explanation of bad behavior from their child. His tender touch and tone are all I ever wanted from my father. And one of the many things I never got.

I stop struggling against him.

“You let another man touch you in a way that only I should be allowed to. And see how you feel now?”

I nod, but he’s not satisfied with my response.

“Tell me, Delilah,” he urges. “How do you feel, knowing you crossed that line?”

“Disappointed,” I sniffle. When I realize he’s waiting for me to elaborate, I speak again. “Ashamed. Upset that I hurt you.”

He nods his approval at my expanded answer as he runs his knuckles over my back. It reminds me of the gentle way he soothed me after my attack, and I want to melt into his touch.

“Andyou lied to me. That almost hurts worse than catching you in his grasp. What is the one thing I’ve always told you?”

“To be honest with you,” I answer.

“Yes, but also...?” I look around the room as I try to remember what else he’s said about it.

When it hits me, I close my eyes as another wave of regret threatens to drown me. Another lone tear escapes, just when I’d thought I was all cried out.

“That our relationship can’t work without it.”

When I open my eyes, I’m gifted with a weak smile on his face. Taking in the sight of it fills me with the hope that we’ll be able to move past this.

“That’s right.” He nods. “None of this had to happen tonight, pretty girl.”

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