Chapter 33
Palmer
Roman’s room felt both like a cage and a sanctuary.
A couple of hours had passed since the break-in.
Graham had delivered a box of pizza about an hour ago and checked in on us, but other than that, Roman and I had been alone.
He’d changed the bandages on my hands, and now only my palms were wrapped with gauze since my fingers seemed to not need them anymore.
I had no appetite. My stomach was in knots. I thought of all the things that could have happened if Roman hadn’t been here with me.
This break-in was a direct attack on the place I slept…the house that had been my home and workplace for weeks. Even the fire that had burned my hands had seemed more distant than what had happened tonight.
I swallowed and glanced down at the pillow and blanket spread out on the floor next to the bed. Roman had insisted that I take the bed, and I didn’t fight him on it. I knew I wouldn’t win.
The look on his face when he’d found me hiding in the pantry flashed through my mind. There had been pure panic in his eyes, starker than ever before. When he’d gathered me up against his chest, he’d been trembling.
Things hadn’t gotten much better since.
He’d eaten a slice of pizza, but most of his focus had been on me and making sure that I ate.
He had been wound tight, pacing the room at times and disappearing into the bathroom on and off, but I wasn’t sure what he’d been doing in there considering I hadn’t heard any rush of water or sound coming from it.
He was currently standing at one of the tall windows, peering through a crack in the curtains, as if he were scanning the yard for potential threats.
“It’s late,” I said for the third time, but he barely acknowledged me. “I think you should get some sleep, Roman.”
He didn’t move a muscle, but continued to stare out through the narrow gap in the curtains.
“You can turn off the light,” he said, distracted. “I’ll go to bed soon.”
It was a lie. I’d been trying to get him to at least sit down for the last hour, but he’d been blowing off my every suggestion.
My nerves were on alert, strung high and tight as the muscles in his shoulders.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
Standing from my perch on top of the bed, I crossed the room toward him. “Look at me,” I said with more strength than I thought I had.
He went still. His gaze flitted toward me. It was searing.
My fingers curled into the thin fabric of my robe. Underneath it, I wore a short-sleeved pajama top. It was the only clean one I had left and my scars felt exposed, even though the robe covered them.
I hated that they made me feel vulnerable. I was always so aware of them.
“Talk to me,” I begged him.
With stiff, jerky movements, he stepped away from the window, coming closer. The heat from his body enveloped me, along with that familiar cedarwood smokiness.
“I-I don’t know what there is to talk about,” he said between clenched teeth.
I shook my head. “Don’t pretend that you aren’t hurting. I came back because I wanted to help you.”
His lips pulled back from his teeth, like he was disgusted. “How could you help me? I’m not worth helping, Palmer. I fail everyone I care about.” He stretched his arms out wide, like he had nothing left to give. “I’ve failed my wife. I’ve failed my family. I’ve failed you, Palmer.” His voice broke.
His sorrow called to me, and I longed to soothe it. But I didn’t reach for him yet. “You didn’t—”
“Stop.” He cut me off. “I can’t—I can’t…” He trailed off, his voice so tight he couldn’t continue. His arms dropped, limp, to his sides, and his dark hair fell forward as he hung his head in shame.
I hated this. His pain was tangible, a steady throb radiating from him. Tears pricked my eyes, because I longed to make this better but I didn’t know how.
This wasn’t just about tonight. This was about Jess, about the night that stole her from him. That familiar guilt stirred inside me, but I fought it down, clinging to the words Raleigh had said.
My life did not cost Jessica hers. It was a tragedy, not a trade.
My teeth sank into my lower lip. I might not have known her, but I knew that she wouldn’t want this for Roman. If she loved him, this guilt and grief that clung to him like chains would break her heart too.
Maybe the best way I could honor her was to try to set him free.
I swallowed hard. “I think maybe you’ve spent so many years thinking about what you lost that night, you forgot what you did.”
After a beat of silence, he glanced up at me, eyes ravaged by the memory of the past. I reached for him, carefully pushing up on my toes and cupping his face between my bandaged palms.
“You saved someone, Roman… You saved me.” A tear slipped down my cheek, and he tracked it as it fell. “Please, don’t make my life into something you regret.”
His face crumpled. A long, heavy breath escaped him, and he leaned his forehead against mine. “I would never regret your life, Golden.”
The sound of the precious nickname had my chest aching.
“I don’t regret it,” he repeated. “But…but it’s so hard—”
He didn’t finish, and gently I stroked a finger along his cheekbone. “I know,” I said, his gaze clinging to mine like he was trying to find something solid to hold onto. “I don’t know the pain of your loss, but that night didn’t leave me untouched either.”
He frowned, his brows pulling together.
My heart raced, and I bit down hard on my lower lip, panicked at the decision I had just made. I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten to this moment, but I suddenly knew that he needed to see everything I had been hiding away.