Chapter 59
Fifty-Nine
Daphne
Itried to keep my tears at bay as I sprinted back to the castle. My bare feet slapped against the freezing stone, but I refused to slow down to put my heels back on.
I should’ve never kissed him back.
I should’ve walked away the second my feet hit the dock.
But none of those smart should’ves crossed my mind because I was back with Brooks.
Back with the man I loved, but could never have.
The man who, with a single touch, made everything inside me come alive.
The moment I reached my room, I slammed the heavy door shut, slid down the wood until my knees hit my chest, and sobbed until I couldn’t breathe.
I cried for the loss.
For the betrayal I’d caused.
For the hurt all of us carried.
For the pain I’d felt when I found my mom and how badly I’d wanted to right what’d been done to her.
And for how history had repeated itself.
She’d loved a Byron, and now, I’d followed in her footsteps.
Neither of us got a happy ending. Maybe loving Byron men was a curse in our bloodline.
Like her, I had to swallow down the bitter truth and accept there was no future for Brooks and me.
I lost track of time as I sobbed until a soft knock startled me.
I scrubbed both palms over my wet cheeks and pushed myself off the floor, expecting Elodie or Blair.
Wrong.
A soaking-wet, shattered Brooks stood in the doorway.
“Can I come in?” he asked softly.
For the very first time, he wasn’t taking what he wanted.
He was asking.
He was just as broken by this love as I was.
I stepped aside without saying a word.
He walked in, doing the same, leaving wet footprints on my bedroom floor.
We stood there, both of us soaked, neither of us knowing where to even begin.
I finally shut the door behind him. “How’d you get in here?”
“Snuck in,” he explained.
“My grandfather increased security.”
“Because he’s afraid we’ll come for you?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He came toward me. Every instinct screamed at me to move. I didn’t.
He settled his cold hands on my cheeks. I sucked in a breath at the familiar feel of him holding me.
“Promise me you had no idea,” he pleaded, his voice breaking with the last word.
“I told you I didn’t,” I whispered.
“Promise me.”
I placed my trembling hand over his, feeling the damp chill of his skin. “I absolutely promise. I swear it.”
“I want to believe you. I really fucking do, Daphne, but …”
“Why can’t you?”
“Because if you knew they were going to try to kill him … then I feel like everything was a lie. All of us.” He raised his thumb, gently wiping away a fresh tear sliding down my cheek. “I’m fucking terrified that the woman I fell in love with was okay with destroying me.”
“Fell in love with or are in love with?” I asked softly.
“Answering that question will fucking kill me.”
“We’ve let all our secrets out.” I stared up at him. “Might as well keep going.”
“I loved you before my father was shot. I still loved you while I was pretending to hate you.” He swallowed. “My heart still fucking breaks because I can’t stop loving you.”
“Same,” I said, that one word catching in my throat.
“Say it.”
The two words sounded almost desperate.
There was no reason to protect myself from him anymore.
It’s now or fucking never.
“I’ve been in love with you for years, Brooks.
” I drew in a deep, trembling breath. “I swear to you, I never wanted to hurt you. I regret what I did every single damn day and wanted to tell you so many times but was too terrified of what the truth would do. I convinced myself being quiet was the least hurtful way to go.”
“You’re fucking killing me, Daphne.”
“I’m so sorry.”
There were a million things we needed to say, but tonight, we were just pouring out our hurt. We were bruised by everything that had happened and too exhausted to fight anymore.
I dropped my hand from his cheek. “I’m not going to your rental. But you can sleep here tonight.”
He nodded like I’d offered him a lifeline.
I went to the dresser and dug through it for something dry he could wear. The move made me remember when he’d said my shorts wouldn’t fit around his cock.
There was nothing for him to change into.
Turning my back to him, I sighed. “Take off your clothes and give me your boxers.”
He gave me a look, his brows drawing together in confusion.
“I’m going to blow-dry them,” I explained.
He nodded, following me into the bathroom, and handed them over before grabbing a towel and tying it around his waist.
I stood there blow-drying a pair of Ralph Lauren boxers while Brooks watched in silence.
When they were dry, I dried both of our hair before returning to my bedroom to change into my pajamas.
“Can you untie me?” I asked, knowing it’d be too much of a struggle to undo my corset.
“Yeah.” He stepped behind me and gathered my damp hair, sweeping it over one shoulder. His knuckles grazed the back of my neck.
The corset loosened one pull at a time, each tug making me more aware of how close he was.
Brooks is here. In my room.
Once the last lace came free, he settled his palm against my bare back. He rubbed slowly between my shoulder blades, his thumb bracing lazy circles over my skin.
“There,” he murmured in my ear.
The second his hand left me, I missed it.
I slipped out of the dress and went to change into my pajamas.
He stood there, waiting for my next move.
“Let’s talk in the morning,” I said while climbing into bed.
“I like that idea,” he muttered, getting into bed with me.
At first, he kept his distance.
That didn’t last long.
The mattress shifted behind me, and he slipped his arm around my waist. I smiled when he pulled me back against his chest.
The warmth of his body was the first happiness I’d felt in months.
Tonight, I’ll pretend everything isn’t broken.
Tomorrow, we’ll have to deal with it.