Chapter 71 71
Elliot's POV
I lowered my mouth to her neck, bit the soft skin right where her pulse throbbed, licked the spot that always made her arch. She went rigid, a visible shiver racing down her spine. My hands slid to her hips, gripping hard, bunching the dress fabric up until my fingers brushed bare thigh. She was shaking so much I could feel the tremors against my chest.
I scooped her up in one quick motion. She let out a muffled cry, hands instinctively clutching my shoulders. I carried her to the bedroom fast, not caring if I made noise. Dropped her onto the bed—the dress riding all the way up to her waist, legs splayed open.
I stood there for a second, staring down at her. Breathing heavy. My chest ached from wanting her so much, from hating her for making me feel this way.
She propped herself up on her elbows, hair a mess across her face.
“No,” she said, voice cracking. “I’m telling you no!”
I climbed onto the bed on my knees, eased myself over her slowly, pinning both her wrists above her head with one hand. With the other I brushed the hair from her face, thumb stroking her cheek.
“Why the hell do we keep pretending?” I asked, voice rough, almost broken. “Last night you let me in. You let me fuck you against the wall. You clenched around me like you never wanted to let go. And now what? You’re gonna tell me you feel nothing?”
She looked up at me, eyes full of tears and fury.
“Why the hell do you keep acting like a fucking psycho?! Enough! Stop!”
“You can’t use me and then just toss me aside!”
“And you can’t expect me to throw away the life I have just to please you!”
“Why not?!”
“Because sometimes you have to make sacrifices, Elliot. And I’m choosing to sacrifice you.”
I jerked back, releasing her wrists. Stood up beside the bed, chest heaving. Took a step back. Bumped into the wardrobe. Slammed my head against the door once. Twice. Three times. The dull pain cleared my head for a second. I took a deep, ragged breath, trying to calm the storm inside.
“So that’s what you want me to be in your life. A fucking disposable piece.”
“Listen… I get what you’re feeling. I felt it too when you came into my life. And in some way we both helped each other out of the darkness we were in—but we didn’t do it the right way.”
“It was the right way. The problem is I helped you… but you didn’t teach me anything. You just became my light, and every time you pull away, you leave me drowning in the dark. Don’t you see it? Don’t you get it?”
“What the hell am I supposed to do for you, Elliot?! Because I’m not going to be your lover. There has to be another way to help you.”
I opened the wardrobe. Grabbed one of her dresses and tossed it onto the bed.
“Change,” I said. “We’re going out for a walk.”
“No.”
“We can stay here and fuck,” I repeated, staring her down. “Your choice.”
She got up fast, hands shaking as she pulled on the dress. Fumbled with the buttons, fingers clumsy. I left the room, pulled out my phone, and called the car rental place I’d looked up earlier. Gave them the exact address. Twenty minutes later the doorbell rang. I signed for it at the door, took the keys. Went back to the bedroom. She was already dressed, standing by the bed, arms crossed over her belly like she was shielding it from me.
I took her hand and squeezed it tight.
“We’re spending the day together,” I whispered in her ear, leaning in so close I felt her quick breath against my neck. “You’re going to tell me how fucking wonderful your life has been these past months. Everything. No lies. No skipping parts. I want to know what the hell you’re holding on to.”
“When are you going to grow up, Elliot?”
I let out a low laugh with zero humor.
“Grow up?” I repeated slowly. “That’s what you want? Me to be reasonable? To accept that you decide when I exist and when I disappear?”
She didn’t look away. Scared, yeah. But she still had that steadiness that always threw me off.
“I want you to understand you can’t just barge into my life whenever you feel like it. You can’t demand anything from me.”
I stepped closer.
“I’m not demanding anything you haven’t given me before.”
“That was a mistake.”
Something cracked inside me.
“Stop calling the only real thing we ever had a mistake.”
She shook her head, eyes shining.
“It was real, yes. But it wasn’t sustainable. It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t healthy.”
“Don’t talk to me about healthy,” I cut in. “Healthy is boring. Healthy didn’t make you tremble. Healthy didn’t make you take me when you knew you shouldn’t.”
Her breathing hitched—just barely. I noticed. I always noticed.
“That doesn’t change what I have now.”
“What you have now,” I said quieter, “is a correct life. Orderly. Presentable. But it’s not the life that steals your breath.”
“Don’t bring him into this.”
“I’m not. I’m talking about you.”
I moved close enough that we almost touched. Didn’t lay a hand on her this time.
“Tell me something,” I murmured. “When you lie down at night and everything’s quiet… don’t you think about me? Not even once?”
She swallowed. Didn’t answer.
I smiled without any warmth.
“That’s what I thought.”
“It’s not fair,” she whispered. “You know it’s not fair.”
“None of this is.”
I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated.
“You talk about sacrifices like they’re noble. Like they hurt less because you call them that. But what you’re doing isn’t growing up. It’s choosing what looks right—even if it dims you.”
“And you choose what burns—even if it destroys everything,” she shot back.
I stared at her for a long moment.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Because at least when it burns, I feel something.”
The silence thickened between us.
She dropped her gaze for one second. Just one. Then lifted it again.
“I can’t be your salvation.”
That cut straight through me.
“I never asked you to save me,” I lied.
She let out a small, bitter laugh.
“That’s exactly what you’ve been doing since you came back.”
I walked to the door and opened it.
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere we don’t have to pretend we’re civilized people.”
She hesitated.
And that hesitation was enough.
I stepped close one last time, voice low.
“I’m not asking you to choose me forever. I’m just asking you not to lie to me right now.”
Her breathing sped up again. Her fingers tightened on the dress fabric.
“Elliot…”
“Come with me.”