Page 59 of Significant
The sea. The waves. The sand.
The sea. The waves. The sand.
The sea. The waves. The sand.
Submitting because I lovedDad.
I learn and promise myself three things.
1) Loving someone is hurting them. Love = pain.So, if I’m like Papa, I’ll hurt people? So, I’ll love no one.
2) I promise myself I will never love.And no one will love me.
3) I’m ashamed. No one could love me, apart from Papa—André. If humans have a soul, mine is broken.The sea. The waves. The sand.
No more feelings. I don’t want to feel pain anymore.
Love transformed me into a slave.
Bound by blood
Present time
I can’t forget the expression of disgust on her face. Her doe eyes wild as she collapsed on her bed. I broke her. I did it to protect her from me. The thought of hurting her is eating me alive, I had no choice. I couldn’t let her seeme.Fuck.Hopefully, she’ll forget my existence. She deserves better. Fucking nightmare. The first time I let myself get close to someone and this happened. I saw my grip on her wrist, it was red. I bruised her. I became just like André. That’s the price I had to pay for breaking my rules. How could she ever look at me the same way? She fucked me. I can’t think straight.
I swore to never let feelings consume me. I don’t feel. I don't have a heart. I’m used to pain. But her eyes terrified, the pain I’ve caused—it goddamn hurts. Usually, I would have used a distraction to forget. But racing isn’t enough. I could still go for a quick fuck, but I can’t. Other women aren’t Elle. They’re insignificant.
Elle.
Only Elle.
Fucking obsession.
“You should let go, Aaron.” I awaken from my thoughts as my eyes dart to André sitting in his renaissance couch in our family manor. He’s like a shadow, hiding in the darkness of the curtains, stopping the light from entering. A cold smile spreads on his face. The bastard is enjoying this.
He made me who I am. And he’s proud of his creation.
“Why did you ask me here, André?” I swore to myself when I turned eighteen to never see him again. And I didn’t, until Henry’s death. Since that day, he’s trapped me with him. I’m his only son left. His legacy. Which means, he’s trying to ruin my life, to shape me as his own project.
As he said, we are bound by a chain only death can break. I wish death didn’t take her sweet time.
“I want you to take over LeBeau’s hotel.” I snort. Wrong son, André. “You owe me for what happened to Henry.” The features of my face close, hearing the name of my dead brother. André never had a heart, but for an unknown reason, he was less cruel to Henry. I’d prefer to die than to work for him.
He stands from his chair before walking slowly toward the ray of light in front of his desk, our eyes connecting like blades. “I haven’t told you, but I’m sick, Aaron. I have a terminal illness.” He swallows, his jaw trembling. Of course, he’s afraid of death. He’ll not go to heaven or shit like that. “I have multiple system atrophy. I doubt I have a long time now.”
My jaw clenches as I scan over André, searching for the truth. But when I see fear and cowardice in his eyes, a smirk eradicates my lips. He’s afraid to die. He knows he’ll die alone. Good. I hate my father for everything he has done to me, for breaking me, turning me into his personal project.
“I’d never work for you. You can give your money to someone else, I don’t want to be in your fucking will,” I reply deadly, but André laughs wickedly.
“You don’t even have a heart for your dying father? I taught you well.” He coughs before standing in front of me with his imposing figure. But I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m a man he cannot abuse. “You are mine, Aaron. You don’t want to turn your back on the only person that loves you.”I don’t want your freaking love.
“You don’t have a choice, Aaron. If you go against my will, I’ll destroy you.” Even in his dying hours, this man is up to tame me until the end. But I won’t give him that satisfaction. I’ll get to watch him die unsatisfied, and that’s my gift.
“So, do so. Destroy me,Father.” I articulate each of my words, leaning toward him. “You already broke me, you can’t do anything else.”
I walk away, his dry laugh resonating through my mind.
The past weeks seem like years. I see him, my downfall, everywhere, and my heart rips with the same intensity each time. I’ve tried to paint, but the truth is, my creativity was linked to Aaron. I broke so many canvases. I tore down everything I did. He was my inspiration and my damnation. Without him, I’m just a ghost. People are talking, laughing, living and I—am stuck in limbo. He has been impregnated in me, I can’t deny that we have been. I’ve spent most of my time losing myself, staring at the painting he bought me. Crying. Begging for him to come back. I realize he pushed me away on purpose, but the fact he let go so easily of me, scares me. I know he could come back, only on his terms.
