26. The Afterglow
THE AFTERGLOW
SAUL
Not wanting to alarm her sister, I gently wake Tessa at 8:00 am so she can check in.
I brush my hand over her hair as her breathing shifts and her lashes flutter. Her hazel eyes, still soft from sleep, meet mine, and my heart pounds. She deserves peace, stability, and love that grounds and lifts her simultaneously.
Last night’s run-in with the NOLA PD clarified one thing: I can’t stay here. Tessa was right; assaulting that douchebag has caused more trouble than I need. He’s determined to try and put me in my place to assuage his ego. It won’t take a motivated man long to start pulling at loose strings in my past, and my wealth can only do so much. I can’t be stupid about this. I’m a murderer, not a law-abiding citizen.
But I also won’t stay away from her. She has to come with me.
Which means I have to tell her the whole truth. Something I should have done before fucking her senseless.
Damnit, Saul.
As she sits up, I prepare for the most important conversation of my life. I’ve spent the last hour pacing the wraparound porch, rehearsing every word. If I want her to trust me again, I can’t just offer an apology—I have to offer a future where her dreams are allowed to be as big as her heart and as boundless as my love for her.
Sleepily, she looks up and smiles at me. “Hey you,” she mumbles.
I bend down and place a kiss on her nose. “Hey, love. How did you sleep?”
She takes a deep breath and stretches. “That was the best sleep I’ve had in months.”
I hear the underlying accusation in her voice, and I prepare myself to answer anything she wants to know after I paint the picture of our future.
“Tessa,” I start, my voice low and steady, “we need to talk.”
Her eyes sharpen, wary, but she nods. I take her hand, my thumb brushing over her knuckles, grounding us both.
“After what went down at Crescent Hall last week and with the cops last night, I can’t stay in New Orleans,” I admit, the words tasting bitter, “but I also know I can’t stay away from you. I won’t.”
I pause, letting the weight of my declaration settle before continuing: “I want you to come with me to Ghana, just for a while. I need you, Tessa. And I promise I’ll make every dream of yours come true.”
Her brows knit, curiosity and hesitation warring in her gaze. “Ghana?” she whispers, her voice uncertain.
I nod, leaning forward, my hands cradling hers as I pour everything I’ve got into my words. “Accra is buzzing right now, Tessa. New businesses are thriving, and the film industry is on the rise. It’s a hub of opportunity, creativity, and life. We can build something there together—a restaurant, your dream space. You’ll be surrounded by culture, by the kind of inspiration that feeds your soul and makes you come alive.”
I take a breath, steadying myself, then add the part I’ve been holding back. “And my wealth? It doesn’t have to sit in a bank account, Tessa. It’s a tool. A resource. With it, we can create something extraordinary. Not just for ourselves but for the people around us. Imagine hiring local talent, mentoring young chefs, and building a legacy that extends far beyond the two of us.”
Her eyes search mine; her lips parted as if she wants to speak but doesn’t know where to begin.
“I’m not asking you to leave your life behind,” I continue, my voice softening. “I’m asking you to share a new life with me. One where your dreams aren’t limited by anything—not resources, fear, or the past.”
I shift closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Give me this chance, Tessa. Let me show you what’s possible, not just for us but for everything you’ve ever wanted. You’ve carried so much on your own for so long. Let me carry some of it with you. Let me be your partner in every way.”
Her silence stretches, but I see the spark in her eyes—the wheels turning, her heart weighing the possibilities. I don’t push. This isn’t a decision I can force. It has to come from her.
I brace myself as she studies me, her expression unreadable. The tension in the room is thick, pressing against my chest, making it hard to breathe. Tessa isn’t the type to let things go—not when something doesn’t add up. And I’ve given her plenty of reasons to dig deeper.
She sighs, finally letting the comforter fall from her hands, exposing soft curves that, in another moment, would have had me reaching for her, worshipping her like she deserves. But now? Now, I can’t think about anything but the truth sitting on the edge of my tongue, the truth I’ve been holding back like a dam about to break.
Her voice is measured, but I can see the sharpness behind it, the way she’s pulling at every thread, determined to unravel me. " Before I answer you, I have questions."
I nod and sit on the edge of the bed, my body coiled tight. "You can ask me anything, and I’ll answer."
That’s a promise. And a risk.
Her dark eyes narrow slightly as she leans forward, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Well, my first question is, why?" She pauses, letting the weight of the single word settle between us before continuing. "I mean, Antoine can make your life a bit uncomfortable as the police chief, but it was a simple assault in response to him sexually harassing me. And I’m sure it’s on camera. So why run like you’re some criminal? With your wealth, I’m sure you can make this disappear. I mean, you called the mayor last night. THE MAYOR!”
I tilt my head back, staring at the ceiling as if looking for answers that won’t come, buying myself another second before I have to say the words aloud. I knew this was coming—I didn’t know it was coming this soon. But I should have, after that shit show last night.
Lies got me this far, but they won’t take me further.
She deserves the truth.
I stare at the floor, watching my damn demons dance in the shadows, feeling them claw at the back of my mind, screaming at me to hold it in, to protect her, to keep her from seeing this side of me.
But she’s already seen too much.
And I love her too much to keep lying.
I look up, my eyes locking onto hers, holding her gaze like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded. "Because I am a criminal, Tessa. I’m a murderer.”
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t flinch. She waits, steady and unwavering.
So I keep going because if I stop now, I won’t be able to start again.
"I killed him." My voice is quieter now but no less firm. "Patrick. My stepfather. I killed him with my own two hands."
The confession feels like it should set fire to the room and burn me from the inside out, but instead, it lands heavy and solid between us.
Tessa’s lips part slightly, and she stares at me for a moment. Processing. Trying to decide if I’m the man she thought I was or something else entirely.
I wait for her to move, speak, scream, and demand answers.
But she exhales, steady and slow. "How?”
A simple question. But not an easy one.
I roll my shoulders back, tension coiling through my muscles like a wire pulled too tight. “It was easy. Tessa, my body is a weapon. Since I was 14, I’ve been trained in the martial art of Krav Maga. It helped channel the darkness left over from my childhood. My violent streak doesn’t come out very often, and I didn’t want you to know that side of me existed." The words taste like iron on my tongue, heavy and unshakable. “ Anyway, I didn’t have to do much. His death was clean. And it was necessary." My voice is raw, laced with a thousand memories I don’t want to relive, but she deserves the truth.
I inhale sharply, dragging a hand down my face. "I got word that Patrick was free. That he was at my grandmother’s house." My jaw tightens. "And I knew exactly what I had to do."
Tessa’s breath stills, but she doesn’t speak. She watches me, her grip on her pearls tightening.
"I didn’t go there to talk. I didn’t go there to beg him to leave us alone. I went there to end him." The admission sends a cold shudder down my spine, but it doesn’t change anything. I made my choice that night. And I’d make it again.
I lean forward, elbows on my knees, my fingers threading together as I force myself to keep going. " I brought a garrote with me." My voice drops lower, the memory sharp and vivid. "I waited outside the home. He drank himself into a stupor, talking shit the whole time, swearing what he’d do to my grandmother, my sister, to anyone who crossed him." I close my eyes for half a second, then force them open again. "I waited until he passed out, and then I put the wire around his throat and pulled."
Tessa flinches, but she doesn’t move away. "Saul…"
I shake my head. "I needed to be sure. I needed to know he would never get back up. Never hurt anyone else." I exhale, my shoulders rolling forward as I stare at the floor. "It was slow. It was intentional. And I didn’t feel a damn ounce of regret when it was over."
Silence swallows the room, thick and suffocating.
I finally look at her, my chest tight. "Now you know the truth, Tessa." My voice is quieter now. "I planned it. I executed it. I killed him."
She doesn’t speak for a long time, her eyes searching mine, looking for something—maybe a trace of the man she thought I was. Maybe a reason to run.
But she doesn’t run.
And that terrifies me more than anything else.
Acceptance.
Her lashes lower, and she looks down at her lap, exhaling again slower this time.
I force myself to keep talking. "That’s why I left you, Tessa. Not because I didn’t love you. But because I knew the second his body hit that floor, my life wasn’t mine anymore. His brothers are powerful. They’re the Irish Mob, and they’re dangerous. They have people everywhere. I had to disappear before they came looking. I had to protect my family."
I reach for her hand, hesitating when she doesn’t immediately move. "I had to protect you."
She looks up then, her expression unreadable, her grip on the pearls loosening slightly.
"And now?" she asks quietly. “Isn’t it still dangerous? What changed?"
I don’t even have to think about it.
"You." The word is so simple, so damn true. "I couldn’t stay away. I tried, Tessa. But I need you more than I need to hide. And I know I can keep you safe. I should have realized that from the beginning. I was hiding from my truth, thinking you’d reject me. That was pride and fear. I see that now, and I’m so sorry.””
Her lips part, something flickering behind her eyes—something between anger and something else, something more profound.
But she still doesn’t let me off the hook.
“And what about Antoine? If you knew you were laying low for a bigger reason than hiding from the world and me. Why would you take that chance?”
My jaw tightens, a muscle ticking as I inhale slowly through my nose, trying to steady myself. I’m not used to explaining myself. When I make a decision, that’s it. I don’t spend a lot of time reflecting on my actions. But for Tessa, I’ll do anything.
“Like I said earlier, I didn’t know who he was when I hit him, and it wouldn’t have mattered if I did. He touched you, Tessa. He deserved worse than what he got." My jaw clenches just thinking about it. "But I’ll admit I now have a bigger problem than Patrick’s brothers. The Chief of Police isn’t someone I can make disappear. And I sure as hell can’t afford to be reckless now."
Her expression shifts and softens, but there’s still tension between us.
She shakes her head, barely whispering, "I should hate you for leaving me. For stalking me and infiltrating my life. For lying to me.
I tilt her chin up with my fingers, forcing her to meet my eyes. "You should."
Her breath hitches. "But I don’t."
I lean in, my lips barely brushing against hers as I whisper, "Then tell me what you do feel."
She shudders but doesn’t pull away.
I know the answer.
She’s still here, listening, looking at me like I haven’t completely destroyed us.
She still loves me.
And God help me—I’ll never deserve her.
But I’m keeping her.