Page 30 of Euphoria
“Are you…” He held his breath, stopping himself from saying more, but he needn’t bother himself.
“It wasn’t my place to disturb you,” I said. “Truthfully, I don’t know why you insisted I attend your little party.”
“I needed you to be there,” he said, donning his sphinx mask, the one that irritated me more than anything in the world.
“You do not need me, Mr. Rochester.” I lowered my gaze, attempting to protect what little of my heart I had left intact. “Goodnight.”
I promptly left him there, returning to my meager lodgings and ridding myself of the dress Alice had loaned me. It didn’t feel right. None of it did. My feelings, my desires, my position at Thornfield, and my attempt at slipping into a character with which I was wholly unfamiliar.
I didn’t belong. I never had, and I probably never would. I was a solitary being, singular and whole, and I had thought no man would be able to crack my shell. Well, once I had repaired my outer defenses from the damage Mr. Rochester’s sledgehammer had wrought, it would be impenetrable once more.
No matter how I spun the tale in my own mind, I couldn’t help falling into the grizzly maw of depression. I’d been treated to one tiny shred of passion, a sliver that I now saw had been given by mistake, and I was obliterated. All the strength my life had served to build up inside me had been destroyed by one kiss.
One kiss and I was a slave.
