Secret Sin

17

“Then how am I supposed to take it when you push me away and grind on other men at a club? You told me specifically you didn’t want to be tied down. All I’m f*****g asking is that if you need to explore, you do it with me. Is that so goddamn much to ask?”

Bishop had ripped open his chest and put his heart on display but done it in a hurtful, callous manner that wounded me deeply. He made me sound like the most heartless, shallow woman on earth. And maybe I was. It would explain the gaping chasm that hollowed out my chest, making me feel utterly empty. We both turned to see Callum silently retreat from the room. The small break acted as a valve releasing a fraction of the pressure filling the air around us. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, eyes unable to meet his as they filled with tears. “I truly didn’t mean to upset you tonight. It was actually the other way around. I thought about us all week. What I wanted and needed, and the difference between those two. I could sense where I was headed. That I was going to commit to giving us a try and stop pushing you away. It felt like I was handing over my independence, so I decided to go out. Like a retirement party. One last hurrah. When I saw you there, I just sort of panicked.” I finally lifted my gaze, showing him my hurt. The unexpected pain of feeling like an object to be passed around. He made out his actions to sound like a generous offering when, in reality, it felt like a defensive blow to lash out when he hadn’t understood my reluctance to jump into a relationship. “f**k, this isn’t how this was supposed to go.” He coaxed my face to his, but I closed my eyes to shut him out. It was more than I could take. I hadn’t wanted Bishop to know just how deeply he’d upset me, but a treacherous breath hitched in my throat. His body stiffened the instant he felt my spasm. “Please, don’t cry.” Bishop cupped my face in his rough hands and brought our foreheads together. We stood like that for endless seconds before he brought his lips to my forehead in a poignant kiss. “I want to go home now.” I forced the words past the python of emotion strangling my throat. “f**k, baby. I’m so sorry. I was only trying to make you understand how much I want you.” I nodded, ready to say anything to get away. I needed to be alone. By some mercy of God, Bishop took my hand without further argument. I’d half expected him to keep me captive and demand to talk it out, but instead, he wiped my tears and led me to the door. Within minutes of returning home, I was back in my childhood bed and more lost than I’d ever been in my life. OceanofPDF.com For the first time since meeting Bishop, he’d gone completely silent. A solid week with no texts. No calls. No unexpected appearances. I felt as though the world had succumbed to winter months early, leaching the city of color and warmth. How could that be? How could I feel so bereft when I’d known him for such a short time? When I’d only just allowed myself to admit my feelings for him? One particular question haunted me day and night. Was this thing between us over? I wasn’t sure we had built enough of a foundation to come back from such devastation. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was all my fault. Had I rejected him one too many times? I had been so insistant that I wanted to be free of him, but now that sounded like the worst possible outcome. The thought of never feeling the searing heat of his ravenous stare brought on a head-to-toe shudder. You could always reach out to him, you know. There she was again. The voice of reason. She’d been goading me for days, but I couldn’t seem to summon the confidence to make that first move. Did he hate me for being insensitive? Could he really care for me if he’d been willing to share me? All my doubts were quicksand, keeping me mired down in uncertainty. I passed each day in a hazy melancholy, hiding in my room. The following Saturday, however, was to be spent almost entirely at a family wedding—a blessing and a curse. The Lucciano crime family, the most secretive and solitary of the Five Families, was hosting a massive gathering to celebrate the wedding of Alessia Genovese, one of the boss’s daughters. The intrigue surrounding their family and rarity of such a unified event was a welcome distraction. But at the same time, a day spent gushing over love and forevers felt like the worst kind of torture because a niggling splinter of truth wedged its way further under my skin every day, screaming at me that I was allowing my chance at true happiness to slip between my fingers. I’d wanted my independence, but at what expense? What if I had, as my mother used to say, cut off my nose to spite my face? Did exploring all that life had to offer necessarily preclude me from a relationship? Wasn’t that, in fact, one of the many facets of life I was looking to sample? Deep in my gut, I knew the answer. Seeing the bride and groom so happy together brought tears to my eyes. I was thrilled for them and upset with myself. I tried to convince myself that even if I couldn’t fix things with Bishop, I’d learned a valuable lesson. That either way, I was better off. But when the dancing began, and a handsome young man asked me to dance, I didn’t feel better off at all. I felt awkward and icky. I should have been flattered to have been approached. The guy was cute, and he knew how to move, yet all I wanted to do was cry because it wasn’t his arms I wanted around me. Sensing the sting of tears in the back of my throat, I apologized in a rush, then fled for the ballroom exit. My departure didn’t go unnoticed. A minute later, the oldest of my two little sisters joined me on a bench in the grand hotel hallway.