Chapter 44 Valentina
FORTY-FOUR
VALENTINA
“I still don’t know what to say to him.” I pick at my cuticles, not reaching for the door handle. Faith stares at me, and the heat of it is enough to scorch my cheeks red.
Finally, she sighs. “Do you want him in your life?”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t kn—”
“This isn’t the time to be afraid, V. You need to decide what you want, right now. Yes, you’ve been dealt the shittiest hand, and yes, you deserve to be sad and angry and afraid. But you also deserve to be happy. You deserve to be happy with someone, if you so choose.”
“I’m not afraid,” I hiss, continuing to stare at my hands.
Her delicate fingers wrap around mine, stopping my picking.
She squeezes, and I hesitantly meet her gaze.
I’m met with a kind but steely gaze, and for the first time, I notice the flecks of gold glittering her green eyes.
There’s iron running through her—strong and steady—and I try to draw as much strength from her as I can stand.
“You are, and you’ve every right to be, but don’t let them win, V. Be happy anyway. Fuck. Them. Do you want Rafael in your life?”
I nod, the lump in my throat making it impossible to say the words out loud.
She squeezes again, smiling softly. “Then go in and tell him that. The rest will happen.”
“What if I mess it up?”
Faith releases my hand and shrugs. “You will. Alot. But if he feels about you the way I expect he does, he’s not going to go anywhere.
Besides, even if he does, so what? Life’s about taking risks, about dreaming and exploring new opportunities.
You’re going to march in there and tell him how you feel, and tomorrow, I’ll take you to a therapist so you can also start working on you.
Not for his sake, or anyone else’s. For you—only you.
Because you deserve to show up for yourself, V. ”
My lip wobbles as I try to work out what to say, but only a hushed whimper escapes. How did I get so lucky? What knight in shining armor brought this woman into my life?
A thought crosses my mind, and I have to struggle to say the words. “What if I hurt someone—” I lick my lips.
Faith’s eyes go round as understanding dawns in them. “He’s strong. He loves you and cares about you in his own way, but he’s not the right man for you, not even a little bit. You need someone who stands by your side, not in front of you.”
I nod, finding comfort in her words. In another world, I might feel anger, or even fear—what if she’s saying that so she can simply have McCrae to herself?
But in this world, I only feel peace. She’s right—and I love McCrae back.
He’s been my closest friend through more than I can ever repay him for, but I’m not in love with him. Finding Rafael has taught me that much.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
She makes a shooing motion toward the car door, and I open it. “You’ll repay the favor. That’s what friends do.”
I climb out.
She turns the engine and drives off before I can reconsider.
It’s tough love, delivered without a chance to be afraid, and I’m grateful.
Even on her worst day, Faith would be doing things for the people she cares about, regardless of if it hurts.
She’s going to show up and care about you whether you want her to or not.
There’s so much comfort in that.
I stand in the driveway for a long moment, breathing deeply, allowing the smell of fresh rain and musky horse to fill my lungs. It instantly calms me, and I smile despite myself.
I turn around slowly at the sound of a door closing to my back.
I face them, both men watching me with a silent scrutiny that has my toes curling. What if I’m wrong? What if I hurt them, or they hurt me?
But even as I think it, I know where my choice lies. It’s not even really a choice. In this life, I’ve wanted nothing more than to have my own agent, to make my own decisions. But I see them, and the choice has been made for me—not by them or anyone else, but by fate.
They are like two halves of the same dark moon—one pushing me into the steady, unrelenting shoreline that’s both safe but never changing, and one pulling me into the frigid, dark depths of the unknown to not only find them, but to find what lies within myself.
“Rafael?” His name is my undoing, the carefully curated and protected parts of my soul unraveling at his feet. His face splits into a warm grin, and to my surprise, McCrae’s face softens too. It’s not a smile, per se, but it’s acceptance, relief, even.
“I can make him leave,” McCrae grumbles, leaning his hip against the porch railing.
I roll my eyes, crossing my own arms. “I can protect myself McCrae.”
His face splits into a small grin at that, and he straightens. “I know.”
It’s the first time he’s said as much, and there’s such assuredness in it, I grin too. It feels like a big step, one I didn’t even know I needed to make.
“Valentina, can we talk?” Rafael takes a hesitant step toward me, his face somber. I hate that he looks so afraid, so I nod quickly, hoping to remove any doubts from his mind.
McCrae’s eyes harden as he looks between us, and I half expect him to demand to stay. Instead, he pushes off the railing and heads to the door. Before he retreats inside, he looks over his shoulder. “Aim for the throat. It’ll give you enough time to scream for help if you need it.”
“Go away,” I say, and McCrae does, without so much as a small protest.
Rafael takes several more measured steps toward me before stopping. He pushes sand around with his boot, the tension rolling off him in uncertain waves.
“Listen, I’m sorry. I—”
“I understand how—”
He chuckles, his lips tipping to the side slightly. “Please, let me say what I need to first.” I nod, but dread fills me. What if he’s going to tell me he wants to leave? What if he says everything I felt was a lie?
He runs a finger over my forehead, brushing a curl off my brow before his hand drops, swinging limply by his side.
“I should never have tricked you. I could have hurt you, or worse, and I’ll live with that guilt forever—I never want anything to happen to you, V.
Especially by my own hand. You deserve so much better, and even though I know you owe me nothing, I want the chance to prove to you how good we could be. ”
That damn lump fills my throat again, and I swallow repeatedly to work around it.
Every villain has a story—mine was written in flesh, his was written in blood. It’s easy to write off a villain; it’s harder to take the time to understand one—it’s why I accept him, forgive him in a way no one else could. I am him and he is me.
“I understand why you did it. I would have done so much worse had roles been reversed. I just…I need to know—” The sentence dies.
How can I say this, admit this, without exposing my weakness?
Thirty-five years of trauma lead up to this one moment, and I have to decide if I will or won’t let it control me anymore.
That’s what Faith meant—I have to decide. It’s up to me, and I no longer want to be a victim to the horrible trauma of my past. There’s so much more for us to discuss, so many more answers we’ll have to find, but for now, I only need one.
“Anything.” Rafael gently grips my fingers.
“Was any of it real?” My voice quivers, but I get the words out, and pride blooms in my chest. I finally show true weakness, and instead of feeling less than, I feel strong, powerful, brave.
Rafael raises my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles tenderly.
“Every secret I told you, every tale about my past, every moment we shared and feeling we felt—it was all real to me, V. Even when I didn’t want to, I told you the truth.
And the truth is, I’ve fallen for you. Helplessly and hopelessly. ”
A tear skitters down my cheek, and instead of feeling shame, I feel relief. “Kiss me then.”
And he does.
He fucking kisses me like his life depends on it.