Chapter 22

The thought of holding it in, suddenly, was untenable.

What he'd done, for whatever reason he'd done it, was unconscionable.

Seeing her in the hallway like that last night had done him in. Whether it had been a dream the old house had visited on him, or not…who knew.

Maybe it had been. Maybe as the old place knew it was dying, it was letting go of the secrets locked within its plaster, in the old wood strapping in its walls, like a person lets go of oxygen as they're about to expire.

And if that really had been her, sobbing in the hallway—which was even scarier—it had fueled in him an unquenchable need to tell her.

It sickened him that he'd done that to her.

His Tish.

"I have to. I didn't take responsibility for what I did to you. I'm sorry."

Her eyes gleamed, and it wrenched his heart. Absolutely killed him.

How in the hell had he fantasized he hadn't hurt her?

She shook her head, shrugged her shoulders lightly. "It had to do with your brother, I know. You said something when you were feverish.”

He raised himself up on one elbow, maneuvered his body to face her. "I couldn't tell you, Tish. If you were involved in any way, you could’ve been hurt. And that's still a possibility. So I can’t give you details. What you heard from me while I was sick, you heard. I don't think the mind lies when it's feverish. There's no subterfuge. What's in, comes out."

She nodded. "Natural sodium pentathol."

“Yeah. The body's own truth serum. But the point is..." His voice cracked and his heart felt like it was tearing too. Once this was all dumped in his lap, three years ago, he'd had to make a decision so fast.

It had been awful.

His hand found hers, and he felt the warmth, the welcome pressure her fingers formed around his. "I never thought I'd be in a position to hurt you so much. But if I'd told you, you would have been a target. And it wasn't going to change back to normal, ever. It seemed better,” his voice was hoarser now, the words harder to get out, “to let you think I'd just left and didn't care. To let anyone looking on, believe you were actually hurting. Because… "

He swallowed, eyes glued to her face.

What would she think?

She shook her head. "We won't go there. Okay?"

"I'm sorry, Tish. You're the last person I ever wanted to hurt."

She managed a half-smile. "They say we hurt the people we love."

He released her hand, cupped her chin lightly and reveled in the softness. "The love never stopped."

Something swirled in her eyes, but he couldn't read her this time, no matter how much he wanted to.