34. Tristan
34
TRISTAN
M y heart beats so hard in my chest that I think it’s going to bruise some of my ribs. Elle’s warm, naked body is pressed against my side. Her arm is resting on my chest, her fingers gently tracing the tattoos there.
I hold her tightly, my arm around her soft body. My mind is a mess and my heart is even worse.
Fucking hell, I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. Part of me still hasn’t been able to fully get over the fact that she destroyed my future and forced me to sell myself into Bracken’s debt. But the other part of me, the vast majority which includes all of my heart, now also knows that I can’t live without her.
The very thought of continuing on with my life and never seeing her again makes me physically ill. And the thought of her sharing her life with someone other than me makes me want to murder someone. Preferably the entitled son of a bitch who would dare to touch what’s mine.
I tighten my arm around her, holding her possessively .
Why does everything have to be so fucking complicated? Why couldn’t this just be a normal relationship?
My heart stutters as the answer blows through my brain.
Because then, if it were a perfect normal relationship, it wouldn’t be us .
“Back down there in your basement,” Elle suddenly says, startling me out of my tangled thoughts. “You said that sorry doesn’t fix anything.”
Pain slices through my chest at the reminder.
“And you’re right,” Elle finishes.
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Tilting my head, I look down at her face. She cranes her neck, meeting my gaze as well, while her hand still remains on my chest.
“Sorry doesn’t fix anything,” she says. Her deep brown eyes are serious as she holds my gaze. “So, what can I do to help?”
A whole storm of emotions whirls behind my ribcage, but I manage to reply at least somewhat casually, “There’s nothing anyone can do now. That scholarship is long gone.”
Her brows furrow slightly. “But you’re still here. How did you get the money?”
Hesitation blows through me. I glance away. “It doesn’t matter.”
A jolt of surprise shoots through me as she reaches up and grabs my chin, turning my face back to hers. Her eyes are as serious as ever when she locks them on me once more.
“It does to me,” she says.
I clear my throat, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Back when we were in high school, I was incredibly self-conscious about the fact that I was poor. About just how poor I really was. And it still makes me uncomfortable to talk about money. Especially with someone who’s rich.
But after everything Elle and I have been through at this point, I suppose admitting just how poor and fucking desperate I was back then is a trivial thing in comparison.
“I, uhm…” I begin. “I borrowed it. From Rob Bracken.” At her confused look, I clarify, “The leader of the White Serpents.”
Her eyes widen. “Borrowed it? In exchange for what?”
An embarrassing image flashes before my eyes. The image of the gangly, nineteen-year-old version of me, wearing a faded shirt and jeans that were an inch too short, getting down on my knees and begging Bracken for help, swearing that I would do whatever he wanted.
I clear my throat. “Servitude.”
Shock crackles across her face.
“I’m working off the debt,” I elaborate. “Until I can pay it back.”
“How much do you owe him?”
“The full tuition cost for all four years. Plus the expenses that cover my room and board here.”
She stares at me.
I shift my weight, making the bed creak a little, and quickly add, “I’ll be able to start paying it back once I graduate and get a real job.”
Her eyes seem to burn through me, and I shift my gaze up to the ceiling because I suddenly feel incredibly self-conscious again.
For a few seconds, she says nothing.
My heart continues slamming hard against my ribs. Fuck, I hate being this vulnerable.
“So,” Elle slowly begins. “What you need is money. Which is something I happen to have.”
Alarm pulses through me, and I snap my gaze back down to hers. “I won’t take your money. I will not owe you anything.”
She scowls at me as if I’m being deliberately stupid. “You won’t owe me anything.”
“If I borrow money from you to clear my debt with Bracken, then yes, I will owe you something.”
“I’m not suggesting that I lend you money. I’m suggesting that I give it back.”
Now, it’s my turn to frown in confusion. “What?”
“I took away your scholarship.”
I stare at her, confusion still ringing inside my skull.
She stares right back, her expression determined. “Do you deny that?”
“I, uhm… Well, no.”
“Which means that, in taking away that scholarship for you, I stole money that you already had. So now, I’m just giving it back.”
My heart pounds in my chest as I stare at her with wide eyes.
She holds my gaze, her expression dead serious.
Hope and disbelief fight like wolves inside my soul.
I can barely breathe.
She’s offering to pay off my debt. This incredible and absolutely insane woman is offering to wipe my slate clean. To give me my future back. And she expects nothing in return.
I technically did steal that equipment two and a half years ago, and in truth, she did nothing wrong when she told the police that she had seen me. Regardless of my reasons, I committed a crime. And all she did was to simply tell the truth.
In reality, she owes me nothing .
And yet, she’s still willing to pay an extraordinary amount of money to give me, a man who has done nothing but make her life hell ever since she set foot on campus, my life back.
Fucking hell, she’s a better person than I will ever be. And far better than I deserve.
“Please,” she says, still holding my gaze with those serious brown eyes of hers. “If you won’t do it for yourself, then please at least do it for me. I want to move forward. I want to see what you and I can become. But I won’t be able to do that if I know that you’re still trapped because of something I did.”
My pride is telling me to refuse it. To refuse any help. From her or anyone else.
But the stubborn hope in my heart, the hope that now sees a bright future waiting on the horizon, refuses to die.
My heart cracks, and I release a shuddering exhale.
Swallowing back a sudden thickness in my throat, I manage to nod and whisper, “Thank you.”
She smiles. It’s so bright and genuine that pain stabs through my heart all over again.
Elle might say that I will owe her nothing.
But I will spend the rest of my life trying to repay her for this kindness.