Page 87 of The Vow

“Not with her, it’s not. It doesn’t have to be.”

I sighed and shook my head, my fingers crunching into the fabric of my hat, the last few miles back to the house dragging interminably.

“Maybe if you told her the truth…”

“Christ, Pat, she doesn’t want the truth!” I yelled, the boom of my voice quaking the inside of the car. “Did you not hear her? See her? It doesn’t matter what I say.”

“She can’t judge your choices if she doesn’t know your reasons, Damon,” he fired back, completely unfazed by my outburst. “Unless it’s you who doesn’t want the truth, Damon.”

“And what truth is that?” I rasped, my head throbbing as he pulled through the gate and up to the house.

The car came to a stop, and I reached for the door.

“That redemption is a choice.”

My hand stilled on the handle.

“And since you’re so damn wool-brained, I’ll give you a hint: it’s not hers.”

I ground my teeth together at his snark.My choice.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I clipped and let myself out of the car, the door closing a little too hard behind me.

Inside, the house was dark and as quiet as a tomb. Fitting for the seeming death of my relationship with my wife.

I hung my hat on the empty rack, a small smile managing to find its way out when I thought about all the others she’d buried in the pool. God, she was incredible.Too incredible to love a monster.

I swore under my breath and began popping open the buttons on my shirt, striding quickly toward my room. I needed a hot shower, some ibuprofen, and the ability to selectively forget Pat’s conversation in the car.

Maybe redemption was my choice, but the only path to it was straight through fire.

I had sins to atone for. Crimes to answer for. And a vow I needed to uphold. And the truth I didn’t want to face? That choosing to redeem myself meant losing Robyn for good.

I swung open the door to my bedroom and reached for the light, a silhouette in the window stopping my heart mid-beat.

“What are you doing here?”

I froze, my feet just over the threshold.

Robyn stood by the windows, her back to me even though she had to have heard my footsteps.

Her dress was now layered in moonlight daring to peek through the clouds, the midnight velvet like a shroud of mourning she couldn’t shake. Along the back, only the slightest puckers scarred the fabric where she’d ripped the cape off the back. Even her hair hadn’t been touched, most of it still pinned except for the few curls loosened during her escape.

There’d been plenty of time for her to change and sequester herself before I returned, but she’d done none of those things. She’d remained just as I’d left her…and waited for me.

A desperate kind of hope fisted my throat.Why?

A deep shudder cracked through me, adrenaline infused with attraction spilling into my veins. She shouldn’t be here. Not now. Not tonight. Even armed with the truth, I didn’t have it in me to go another round.

Funny how at various times over my checkered past, I’d endured weeks of all manner of torture, and yet, mere hours in the presence of my wife—the presence of wanting a woman who hated me so acutely was beyond what a man was capable of enduring.

Beyond what I was capable of enduring.

“Robyn,” I growled when she didn’t acknowledge me.

I watched a shiver bring her to life, the reflection of her beautiful face slowly materializing as she turned. I really fucked myself by giving her that dress to wear. I should’ve picked something different—anything different than the gown that clung to her full breasts and the curve of her hips like it was made of nothing but shadow. Anything different than a dress that I could either pull down or lift up without any effort.

I shouldn’t have put myself so close to heaven knowing she’d never let a devil like me touch her again.

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