Chapter 27 #3
I sighed. “No,” I agreed, then went to find out whether it was the garlic bread or the baked penne that had interrupted us.
Raj followed me, coming to lean against the counter as I retrieved the slightly brown—but not burnt—garlic bread from the oven after emphatically turning off the timer.
“We should probably talk,” he said, his voice low and serious.
I glanced over at him, the flush coming into my cheeks one of shame.
“I’m sorry,” I said, half-choking on the words. “I—I shouldn’t have let it get out of control. I shouldn’t have—” I broke off, because I honestly wasn’t sure what I’d done to trigger the magic, which meant that I—terrifyingly—didn’t know what I should or shouldn’t have done.
“Rayn,” he said softly. “I’m the one who should apologize.”
I paused in the process of picking up a piece of garlic bread and putting it on a plate.
If he really meant it, this would be the first time he’d ever apologized for being overprotective of me.
It would tell me that he’d accepted that I might be capable of being responsible for myself.
“What do you mean?” I asked, a little hesitant, just in case that wasn’t what he was going to apologize for, even if I couldn’t think of another reason he’d need to.
He tilted his head to the side, one mussed lock of dark hair falling over his forehead, probably the result of my hands running through his thick locks. “I may not be a witch, but I do know that magic can get out of control when emotions are… high.”
He wasn’t wrong, and heat bloomed across my cheeks. “I know,” I whispered. “I’m—”
“I wasn’t judging you, mera ravi,” he interrupted.
“I’m saying I understand that I pushed you too far.
” He sighed, then ran his fingers through his hair, shoving it more or less back into place.
“I just…” He paused a moment, and I saw a muscle in his jaw tic.
“I worry. I—” A deep breath. “I don’t know what I’d do if you—” His voice cracked. “If something happened to you.”
He reached out a hand and traced his finger down the side of my cheek.
“Every time you end up in danger, I feel like I’ve gone a little insane. Like I can’t think or breathe or focus until I know you’re safe again.”
I looked into those golden-brown eyes, my heart in my throat. I knew Hart was right. I had to either fix this, fix us, or end it.
I—I wanted this to work. I wanted to have Raj Parikh in my life for as long as I could have him. And I wanted that to be a long time from now.
But I also wanted him to see me as his partner. His equal. Not as someone he had to protect and shield from the world.
I wanted him. I might even love him—I wasn’t exactly sure what that was supposed to feel like. I worried about him. I wanted to spend time with him. Wanted to see him smile, hear him laugh, make him gasp and moan, hold him when his job was too much.
And I wanted him to do those same things for me.
But I also needed him to trust me.
I needed him to believe in me.
“Rayn,” he whispered, his voice rough and almost desperate, clearly reading something in my expression that upset him.
“I need you to believe that I can take care of myself,” I whispered.
“That I don’t need you to protect me.” I knew that, coming from the man he’d had to get out of the bottom of a well, that might seem…
delusional? foolish? Arrogant? But I’d also used magic to raise a small army of angry dead to stop a violent cult, which I felt ought to count in favor of my ability to protect not just myself, but others, too.
I watched him swallow, my chest aching at the shine of wetness in his eyes. “I—” He swallowed again. “I understand,” he whispered, dropping his eyes. “I—I’m sorry. I just—” He fell silent.
“I don’t want you to think of me like a child,” I told him, my voice serious.
“I do not think of you as a child,” he retorted, sounding a little horrified.
“But you do treat me like one whenever you think I might get hurt,” I said softly.
“Raj, I know you worry about me. I worry about you. Every day when you’re at work.
But I trust you to make decisions that will let you come home.
And I need you to trust me to do the same thing.
” I swallowed, trying to summon up the courage to say what I needed to.
“I can’t do this if you can’t trust me,” I forced out.
His big body shuddered. “Rayn, please,” he rasped, his hands taking mine, gripping it so tightly that it almost hurt. Almost.
I looked at him, my stomach in knots and emotion half-strangling me. “Then trust me,” I murmured.
“Rayn—”
“Yes or no, Raj,” I whispered.
He closed his eyes, and my chest ached at the sight of the tears that slid out of them. “I—I don’t know if I can.”
I deliberately pulled every ounce of magic I had as deep within my stomach as I could.
Holding it. Refusing to let it spill out.
I couldn’t manage the same for my own tears.
“Then I don’t know if I can, either,” I managed to say, although my voice shook and my heart felt like it shuddered in my chest.
“Rayn—” The sound was a half-sob.
I pulled my hand back, gently. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“I love you,” he said, his voice raw and hollow.
I looked at him. “Not if you don’t trust me,” I countered.
“Let me try,” he begged. His face was open. Raw. Desperate.
I wanted to say yes.
So badly.
“You don’t try,” I said, the words strangling me. “You do or you don’t.” It was so hard to say. But I had to say it. “And you don’t.”