Chapter 92 My inaction makes me complicit.
CHAPTER 92
My inaction makes me complicit.
SCARLETT – POINT OF VIEW
What if we try?
I look at the setting sun, at the sea of sunflowers across from us, the garden of roses, and the constellations of hope in his eyes. What if we try? What if we stop running for a second and try to be in love? What if we give this relationship a chance? A true chance, not one borne out of desperation and the documents we signed?
I exhale and say nothing for a second.
I let my thoughts wander.
He’s only asking because he’s scared. The questions by Adeline’s mom pushed off the cliff he had been tethering on. A life without legacy. A need to be remembered. It’s human, and very real. I have always wanted to be remembered, too, and this past year has shown me how easy it is to scrub out someone’s existence and make everyone forget. Rosalina Diaz is dead. Everyone has mourned and forgotten her. My parents have also been forgotten. All they have left is the legacy they left behind, a legacy I am ruining with every single day of inaction, one that will continually be ruined by getting into this relationship.
Yet, I will.
Roman takes my silence for rejection.
“Come with me, Scarlett.” He holds my hand, and I let him lead me away.
We walk in silence, then settle on the grass, staring at the ocean across from us. There’s a longing in my heart, one for our home.
I turn to him and confess, “I miss our home.”
He smiles and nods, “I know, which is why I brought you here. The ocean here isn’t like the body of water back home, but at least it can soothe the ache in you until we return.”
I rest my head against his shoulder and listen to the crashing waves and the song of the birds.
If only I could spend the rest of my life floating around with no worries, but I can’t. It’s exhausting and a burden. It’s the life I have, and it is my responsibility to make Emiliano and his partners pay for all they’ve done, to make them bleed.
“I know that my request and need feel strange. You’re probably thinking my close call with death has given me an epiphany, and now, the conversation during dinner has only piled on to it. I do not consider myself a good person. Morality is something I have struggled with, and you were right.” He looks at me, gaze hooded with something broken and damaged.
“What?” I blink, confused about the moment he’s referring to.
“When you told me I wasn’t a good person, you were right. I am not. My position as a billionaire disputes any attribute of goodness I might try to have. The concept of hoarding wealth while millions of people suffer in poverty writes me down as one of the many bane of the earth. No matter how much I try to donate, give out, help, or do whatever I can to help people, I just don’t. There’s a lack of fulfillment in it, and eventually, I realise the people in charge of disbursing the money stole it as theirs.” He scoffs bitterly.
“The world is inherently evil, Scarlett. Everyone wants money, and it gets to a point where you always want more. Greed is embedded in our being, and I just wear mine like a second skin, holding it hand in hand, flaunting my flaws. I don’t want to do that again. I don’t want to live that life. I wasn’t raised like this. I was raised to be good. My parents were ready to give their lives for causes they believed in. My father was brave and strong, yet I am a coward, tarnishing his legacy in the mud.” His voice cracks, and his fist clenches.
I try to comfort him, but he shakes his head.
“There has to be a line, a limit, Scarlett. The world is full of so much evil, and no matter how hard I work, I just can’t find my purpose. I tried to continue my parents’ work when I had the money, but my mom wouldn’t speak to me. There’s a void in me that expands every day. My inaction makes me complicit, and my guilt has never purified me. I rot inside, and yet, I go back to being Roman Sterling, the great Sterling, the powerful, the billionaire, but there are some moments, tiny moments where I find peace with you, only you.” He looks at me, determination in his eyes.
I nod, chest aching, “I understand what you mean, Rome. I understand more than you think.”
In this moment, I think about telling him everything, giving him a cause and a reason to fight, a purpose, but it’s hard to pull myself away from all the people I’ve pretended to be. I’ve worn too many faces and forgotten what mine looked like. He is greedy, and I am deceitful. We’re a match made in heaven.
“I am not asking for a baby now. It would be stupid to. I’m not even asking for sex. I’m asking for companionship, for partnership, for a relationship. I want to build something with you. I want to hide nothing from you. I want to show you my world. You don’t have to show me anything or tell me anything if you aren’t ready. Just … just be mine. That’s all I want, all I ask.” He holds my hands firmly, passion in his eyes.
A relationship with Roman is scary. It will be built on the foundation of secrets. Secrets that can split us apart. I have betrayed him once, and I will betray him again, but not today. I am tired of running, of avoiding my face in the mirror, of carrying so much emptiness.
I lean into him and nod, heart racing.
His eyes widen, shocked, “Scarlett?”
“Yes, Roman. We can try.” I smile, my cheeks hurting.
“Fuck, baby, you’re my precious girl.” He cups my face and kisses me softly, briefly.
He pulls away quicker than expected, and I look at him, hungry and wanton.
Together, we stand on the threshold of something transcendent and I just have to leap. I just have to try. So, what if I fall? What if I bruise my knee and break my mended heart? So, what? I would have had a wonderful experience either way.
“I don’t want us to be another lie. I want to do this right.” He caresses my cheeks, and I nod, even as something breaks in me.
I am made up of lies.
How long can I keep my secrets?