Page 121 of For Wrath and Redemption
Everything else hurts too much.
The room goes silent. She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, but I don’t let her go. I can’t. I won’t. When her hands slip into my hair, I let out a shaky exhale. I tremble under her touch. When she moves her hands to my wrists and steps back, though, my heart plummets. She’s walking away. She’s going to leave me, and I don’t blame her. She should. She should walk away and never look back.
But then she kneels on the ground with me.
Her hands cup my face. Her blue eyes shine as they hold mine.
“I don’t know what to say to make you feel better. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Tell me how to help.”
I’m stunned for a moment, and I have to blink against the rush of more tears. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I force a swallow. I shake my head. I put my hands over hers, hold them to me, and try again.
“I don’t know how to handle this,” I whisper. “You just came in here and ripped me open. I feel like I’ve been skinned. Everything is bloody and raw and exposed, and nothing is working. Nothing.”
“What do you mean?”
Her thumb rubs my cheek, wiping at my tears. Her touch is so gentle. It’sloving. I’m so fucked.
“I don’t know how to feel all of this,” I rasp out. “I conditioned myself to be numb to it. That part of me is off. It’s supposed to be off. I’ve protected myself from it for so fucking long because it hurts. It fucking hurts, and it’s consuming, and it’s changing fucking everything.”
“Jonah, I don’t understand.”
Her eyes peer into mine, searching, and it’s too much. Too vulnerable. Too open. I close mine, cutting off that connection, but I don’t let go of her hands. I still need something. I still need her...
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to help, Jonah, I just don’t?—”
“I love you, Claire. I’m fucking in love with you.”
She says nothing. It’s complete, utter silence, and my heart aches. I crack open, and I fucking bleed out. She doesn’t feel the same. I knew she wouldn’t. How could she? But fuck, the confirmation is killer.
I open my eyes and scan her shocked face, then choke out a laugh.
“See? I knew from the jump you’d give me trouble. I just didn’t think it would be like this.”
Her face falls as a new wave of tears floods her eyes. I brace myself. She delivers my death blow on a shaky whisper.
“I can’t be with an addict.”
I wince, then nod. “I understand.”
“I care about you so much. I do. I want to?—"
“No.” I shake my head. “Don’t say anything else. I don’t want you to. I just...Fuck, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.”
I let go of her and try to pull away, but she doesn’t release me. She slips her hands to the back of my head, holding me in place, and there’ssomething in her eyes I can’t identify. Something that gives me hope but cuts deep. Whatever she might feel for me, she doesn’t want it. That’s worse than her feeling nothing at all.
“I’m sorry for causing you pain. It’s the last thing I want to do. If you want me to leave, I will.”
It’s not at all what I want to hear. I feel pathetic and desperate. But for the first time in a long fucking time, I don’t feel angry.
“I don’t. I don’t want you to leave.” I force a smile, then give her a shrug. “We have a job to do, right?”
“Right.” Something passes over her face, then she gives me a flat, sad smile. “Let’s just make it through Amsterdam. Maybe a break is what you need.”
I swallow and nod, then pull away. She lets me go this time. I push to standing and offer her my hand so I can help her up.
“Yeah, Trouble. I think I just need a break.”
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