Page 91 of Worship
His expression is sardonic.
“You want me to beg.” He laughs. “I’d die on my knees for you, so joke’s on you, Angel.”
His arms drop from his head.
My voice is softer than before.
“No. I don’t want you to beg. I just want to be your only.”
I feel so vulnerable saying it. I started out envious of Shelby, but he loved me, and I loved him. But I won’t share him with all the darkness that pulls him apart.
“Bullshit. I’m always thinking of you,” he answers unconvincingly.
He’s defensive. I could shake him.
I walk over to him and stand my ground.
“Was it my face you pictured when you told her to drop to her knees? To suck you off? Because I didn’t feel a part of that decision, Luca.”
He dips his face closer to mine. “Do you really believe that of me? Truly?”
I laugh, crossing my arms.
“I don’t doubt your love. I’m not scared of what you would do in the name of it, because I already know what you won’t do.” My voice is prodding and spiteful.
I’m not going to stop pushing him until he sees.
Luca cracks, yelling, “There isn’t anything I won’t do.”
His palm smacks against the wall next to me. I blink out of the surprise but not fear.
He turns and walks away from me, but I follow, grabbing his arm and turning him around. I won’t let him run from me or himself. His face is devastating. He’s so gutted and exposed. I see how much he hates the role he played and how much he wishes he could change it.
His jaw tenses, the muscles undulating as he walks too close to me, forcing me backward. He tugs at my shirt, bunching it at my stomach and pulling me toward him.
Luca’s voice is raspy, strained by the emotions he holds at bay.
“Tell me what to do. I can’t lose you…please, Gretchen.”
His arms wrap around me and our bodies press together. His lips brush my ear as he whispers, “What can I do?”
He sounds broken. He pulls me in deeper to his body, and I do the same, unwilling to let him go, desperate for the connection to him. He kisses the top of my head and leans in again.
“Do you want her life? Because I’ll take it. For you, I would take it.”
I gasp as my emotions become overwhelming.
“No,” I cry, pushing him away, but he won’t budge.
His quieted “shh” fills my ear as he rocks me. But I have to say it.
“I want the one thing you can’t give me. The thing you won’t give. So, I have to walk away.”
His hands loosen, and he steps back. My fears are mirrored in his face.
We’re over. This is done.
He keeps stepping back, arms open, grinding his jaw because he knows what I’m going to say. I’m going to require his choice.
