Page 40 of His to Destroy

From having survived someone.

From knowing they’ve already carved out a place in your soul, whether you wanted them to or not.

I’d watched him laugh politely at something that woman said, and in that moment, all I could think was: He’s mine. Even if it’s fake. He’s mine right now.

And the shame that followed made me burn.

It’s not just the proximity that’s breaking me.

It’s the way I feel when he’s near.

I shouldn’t want him. Not after what happened. Not after the alley. Not after the betrayal. But somehow, the pieces of him now don’t match the man who walked away from me back then.

He’s patient. Present. Tender in ways I don’t trust.

And worse?

He makes me feel again.

Things I tried to bury. Things I thought were dead inside me.

When he touches me—even by accident—I feel like I’m on fire.

I’ve felt this way since he took me for the first time, being gentle and ensuring I derived as much pleasure from the experience as he did.

And when he looks at me with that quiet reverence, I don’t know what to do with it.

Because part of me wants to lean into it. To melt.

The other part wants to run until my feet bleed.

I rise from the balcony chair and make my way back inside, wrapping the blanket tighter around me like it might protect me from my own thoughts.

Gaspare is seated in the reading lounge. I should’ve known. A tumbler of something amber in his hand, shirt sleeves rolled to his forearms, hair mussed like he ran his hands through it one too many times.

He looks up when I enter.

His eyes flicker with surprise. And then something softer.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks.

“No.”

Please, don’t ask why I can’t sleep. Because I don’t trust myself to tell a lie right now.

He doesn’t press. Just gestures to the empty seat across from him.

I hesitate.

Then sit.

It’s another reminder that I enjoy his company. Crave it even. I would rather walk on hot coals than be in the same space as Gaspare.

The silence stretches between us, filled with everything we’re not saying.

“You looked beautiful at the gala,” he says suddenly.

I swallow.

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