Chapter 37
CHAPTER 37
MICHAEL
“Get out.”
Her command sliced through me and a chilling sensation creeped into my gut, tightening like a noose at the distress written all over her face.
My eyes flitted down briefly to the photos spread out on the coffee table in front of her. I only caught a glimpse at the contents of one, but it was enough to piece together the possibility of why the woman I’d held in my arms last night wasn’t the one standing in front of me anymore.
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” I was well-aware it was a stupid thing to say, especially with how damning the pictures laid out in front of her were, but I was willing to try anything if it meant it bought me more time.
If it meant the chance to explain.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips, the sound hollow and empty. Instead of answering, she held up a small device I hadn’t noticed in her hands before. I didn’t have the opportunity to ask her what it was before the sound of my voice filtered through it.
I felt every ounce of blood drain from my face when my eyes met hers again after the last words I’d told her father before he resigned cloaked the room around us. Time slowed into an excruciating pace, and panic clawed at my chest at the implication of what this meant.
No. This can’t be happening.
Everything between us had been tangled up in a web of lies and half-truths and it was all coming crashing down. But I was supposed to have more time. I was supposed to tell her everything once I dealt with the House. I was supposed to be able to make things right and then be with her after my Ascension.
But wasn’t that the cruelty of hope? To have it dangled in front of you, only to watch slip away when you finally reached for it.
I had no idea who had given her all of that information or or how it landed in her hands, but right now none of it mattered.
Azara was more important.
Time resumed its normal course, but the dread I felt remained.
I took a step toward her, desperate to bridge the space between us, but she shot up from her seat, putting distance between us. She only stood a few feet away, and I could still smell her perfume that had lulled me to sleep last night.
But with the way she looked at me, she might as well have been miles away.
“Azara,” I said, my voice low.
“Michael, I said get . Out .”
“No,” I said firmly, unwilling to let go. “I’m not leaving until we talk.” My words were reminiscent of what I’d told her yesterday, but this time they held more urgency.
“Oh, so you want to talk,” she retorted, shaking her head in disbelief. “Then answer me this,” she added, a roughness edging her words.
“Anything,” I replied, desperately clinging to any sliver of hope that somehow I’d be able to buy myself enough time to fix this.
But I was deluding myself. Just like I’d been from the beginning.
“Why did you do it?”
Her question was simple enough, and yet the weight of it threatened to crush me.
My throat worked with a hard swallow. “I did what I had to do.”
A heavy silence lingered in the space between us as I waited for her to react to my veiled confession. Regardless of how badly I wanted to tell her everything about who I was and what I was involved in, I couldn’t just yet. I was ready to risk everything to have her in my life, but I needed to wait until I could leverage things to my advantage.
If I told her too much, too soon, I’d risk putting her in jeopardy.
“Leave,” she said, but her voice was eerily calm and controlled this time.
Too controlled.
But I caught a glimpse of the anguish flickering between the cracks.
And I only had myself to blame.
I was responsible for putting it there and I’d never hated myself more.
“It was never my intention to hurt you.” I managed to get out, my throat feeling like sandpaper.
“ Hurt me?” She spat the words and their venom slithered across my heart like a serrated blade. But her next words struck me like a slow poison. “Michael, you used me.”
She let out a humourless laugh as she looked away from me for a moment before her eyes burned into mine, pinning me in place.
“I spent months seeing my father lose himself,” she continued, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to hold it steady. “I thought to myself that maybe it was somehow my fault. That I was failing as a daughter because I couldn’t fix the situation, that I couldn’t fix what was wrong with him. Only now to realize that it was all because of you.”
Her confession struck me like a physical blow and I was unmatched for its force.
I could feel the tremor in my hands as I tried to reach for her, but there was nothing there for me to grasp. My hand fell to my side when her hurt expression slowly morphed into indifference and I watched the walls I’d managed to finally get through grow taller with every passing second.
“Azara,” I pleaded, my voice cracking under the weight of everything I wanted to say.
“Get out of my house,” she demanded.
Raw panic flooded my lungs at seeing my window of opportunity thinning. Logic had ruled every one of my decisions, but there was no more room for it.
“Just give me a chance to explain,” I said desperately, this time when she remained silent.
I’d planned to wait until after my Ascension to confess all of my sins, but fuck it. If my punishment was death, I’d flay myself open in front of her if it meant not losing her.
I needed her to listen to me. I needed her to forgive me. Deep down, I knew I didn’t deserve it, but it didn’t stop me from reaching for her again and wanting to hold her until she let me back in.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
She shrank away before I made contact. “You already have.”
A strange pressure burned at the back of my eyes as my heart cracked under the weight of those three words. Three words that were the nemesis of the ones I’d wanted to tell her. The ones I’d dreamed of hearing from her.
“Please.” My voice cracked and something wet landed on my cheek, but I didn’t give it attention. Not when I was watching the woman I love slowly slip further away from me. “Don’t do this, gumiho . I l?—”
“Do not say it,” she said, anger flooding her voice. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Do not fucking say those words to me. Don’t lie to me more than you already have.”
The air went still in the aftermath of her accusation except for the sound of my heart breaking further at her thinking that my love for her and the way she completely consumed me could only be a lie.
I tried to claw out of the darkness saturating my lungs, but it was impossible to thread through the pool of shame and regret for what I’d done.
My duty had never felt this wrong.
Not when it became the catalyst of losing a part of my soul.
“How much you own my heart could never be a lie,” I confessed, barely recognizing my voice from its rawness.
My shoulders sagged from the weight of her silence. I’d expected it but it didn’t prevent the emptiness I felt inside. I let out a shuddering breath, the sharp realization settling in that I might have just lost the love of my life. She’d handed her trust to me and I’d shattered it in ways that might be irreparable.
But as much as I hated it, I needed time to earn it back.
I just hoped that, this time, it wouldn’t work against me.
I allowed myself to look at her one more time, one last look at what I stood to lose if I didn’t do this right, before I did what she’d asked of me.
I left.