Page 165 of Secrets (The Sins Trilogy 2)
I look at my barren ring finger and the scar on my left wrist. Although Sam said it was from an injury sustained from the car accident, was it really? He’s the one who made me into Iris Smith. He could’ve erased the tattoo while I was asleep. The fewer identifying marks I have, the easier it would be for him to lie. Sam said he pulled me out of the water and left the girl in the blue dress behind.
But why?What about me that was so special that he went to such an extreme length? Blackmail, because I was dating Tony? No. Sam would’ve contacted him and tried to get something going there.
Tony’s tormented face from last night pops into my head. I’m not even angry. Just sad and confused and hurt. I close my eyes, imagining how I would’ve behaved if I were him. What would I have done if I’d lost Tony because he died? Just the thought sends such sharp pain through me that I put a hand over my heart.
And what would I do if he came back from the dead? I would be incoherent with joy, wouldn’t I? I’d hold on to him and never let him go…
But what if he didn’t remember me? Or if he was surrounded by people like Sam and Marty? What if he didn’t know who he was and was being used?
Would I tell him the truth? Who he is? What we used to be? That we were in love? That I grieved for him? Wouldn’t he think I was crazy, especially if his “relatives” told him so? To get him back, I’d have to go along with the bullshit and wait for a good opportunity to pry him away from those who were using him.
And what if I learned Tony could be ripped from me again through death? Wouldn’t I do everything in my power to prevent that?
Yes. Yes, I would.
But I still don’t truly understand why he didn’t tell me the truth when Sam showed his true colors. Didn’t Tony know I would’ve trusted him? Unless I’m mistaken, a lot of his motivation stemmed from a fear of losing me. Did he think so little of me—of us—that he thought he couldn’t risk testing my love that way?
I close my eyes as grief ripples through me. He should’ve trusted me. He should’ve told me. He should’ve—
Just like the way you told him about what Sam said about the girl…how you were responsible for her death?
Flinching, I open my eyes. I…I did that, didn’t I? I hid it, then ran to Yuna because I couldn’t bear to face him out of shame and fear. If I had told him, would that have been a perfect opening for him to tell me my true past?
I hug my legs. Then, resting my chin on my knees, I try to sort through questions I’ll never know the real answers to. But mainly I want to know if I would’ve acted differently from Tony.
It is easy to say that I would’ve, but I do my best to be honest with myself. I also consider whether Tony deserves a second chance. Yes, he hurt me like hell, but it wasn’t like it was all pain between us. He protected me—saved me from Jamie Thornton, from Sam, from everyone else he thought might hurt me. He held me when I needed his strength, dried my tears when I was grieving, and always pleasured me like it was our last night together. The patient tenderness he showed… It was only for me, no one else. Isn’t that why I was so afraid to tell him my fears about what kind of horrible person I might’ve been in my past? I didn’t want him to turn his back on me.
Even if you remember nothing of your soul mate, when you’re reborn, you seek out and love the same soul through a thousand lives and beyond. That’s you and Tony… You’ll never find another like him, and you’ll never feel alive and whole without him.
If I hold on to my anger and hurt, I can never give him another chance. But if I don’t…I’ll have to make myself vulnerable again, open myself to more potential pain. Fear and a smidgeon of helpless longing tighten in my belly until it makes me hunch over.
Self-preservation says I should cut my losses and move on. Surely, there’s another man like him somewhere in the world. But another part of me says I’m being chicken again. Can I really let what’s between Tony and me end this way and never have a bit of regret? When I’m on my deathbed, won’t I wonder what could’ve been?
I can’t answer with any kind of conviction. Then I know… I’m always going to wonder for the rest of my life.
When I woke up from the coma, I promised myself I wouldn’t live my life frivolously. And right now, I’m spending my precious time poorly. Every day without Tony creates a bigger and more aching hollowness inside. I’m going to work through the pain, try to salvage what we can. If it really is beyond our ability to fix, then at least I’ll know I tried and I won’t torture myself with what-could’ve-beens for the rest of my life.
