Page 46 of Redeem

“Please go,” I whispered, though in truth, I wanted him to do anything but.

I sealed my eyes shut, but heard another thump against the door, realized he had sat on the other side.

“Please go. Please go.” I said the words over and over again, repeated them until I was hoarse.

Then I sat there, silent, numb, until I passed out.

Twenty

Ciprian

I stood at the door, fingers curled against the wood, my heart shattering over and over again. I’d known this would happen, but knowing it and living it were two different things. It was everything I’d imagined, but felt so much worse than I could have contemplated.

The hurt, the disgust, the betrayal I’d seen in her face…

All were justified, and all hurt worse than the bullets and knives that had come so close to taking my life. I would have traded this pain for the physical injuries in a heartbeat. Because seeing Dana crushed was another reminder that it was my fault, my responsibility.

The time I spent in front of the door passed slowly, each second excruciating. But when Dana went quiet, I didn’t know whether I was relieved or concerned.

I hadn’t heard her move, but I wouldn’t allow myself to think she might hurt herself.

She might hurt me, though, and I would deserve it.

I’d heard her frantic pleas for me to leave, and I’d considered giving in to them. I’d done at least some of what I’d wanted to do. Helped her with her home. Given her the truth, so what else was there?

Walking away would probably be easier anyway.

But I couldn’t do that.

Because I still owed her.

And I loved her.

Part of me wondered if I’d loved her since the day I’d ruined her life. Probably had, and I knew I always would. If she wanted me to go, I would, but not before I looked into her eyes, told her all I needed her to know.

I sat there for hours, my mind replaying those awful moments over and over again.

It had been worse than I had even imagined, how what I’d said had crushed her, knowing that those seconds had killed any affection she might have held for me.

And yet…

I regretted so much in my life, regretted almost all of it, actually. But I also knew that each of those moments had brought me to this woman.

No matter what, I couldn’t regret that.

The hours felt as though they’d passed slowly, but soon the dark of night gave way to the morning sun. I lingered, staring at the sparse but still comfortable bedroom, remembering the time I’d shared with her here.

I stood abruptly, ignoring the pain in my limbs and in my heart, and focused on the door. I was in no position to push the issue, but I wouldn’t leave, and knowing Dana, she would stay in there forever if I didn’t.

“Dana.”

I didn’t expect her to respond, hadn’t even heard her move, so I was surprised when she spoke.

“Please go,” she said. Her voice sounded stronger, and I was heartened by that, but the hours didn’t appear to have softened her.

“I can’t do that. Not until we talk,” I said.

“Talk?” she spat.