“Why?”
“That’s not who I am anymore.”
She left it alone. “Well…if you ever change your mind, I’d like to know.”
I probably wouldn’t.
“How old were you when your father passed away?”
“Twenty-six.”
“At least you had a long time with him. Were you close?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Oh…” Dinner was abandoned because our conversation took hold of everything. “I can tell this makes you really uncomfortable, so we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You can share as much or as little with me as you want. It doesn’t change my decision to marry you.”
“It might.”
Her green eyes showed fear because she took me seriously.
“I killed him.” I couldn’t meet her gaze as I confessed my sins, as I told her I’d killed my own flesh and blood. I’d aimed right between his eyes and pulled the trigger. It had to be done…but it’d haunted me ever since.
She was speechless. What else could she be?
“I have an older brother. We don’t speak.” Mentioning my brother seemed anticlimactic after what I’d said about my father.
She was still quiet, clearly in shock. “Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“What does that mean?” she whispered.
I’d invited her over in the hope of rekindling our physical relationship. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen at this point. I’d have to wait until Saturday. “Ever since I was young, my father has been a human trafficker. He captured vulnerable girls from all over the world and forced them to work in whorehouses. Sometimes he sold them to men who turned them into slaves. It wasn’t until I was much older that I understood what he was doing.”
Her hand covered her mouth.
“When I realized what he was doing, I asked him to stop. He refused. I turned my cheek for the longest time until he took a woman I knew. I confronted him, asked him again to stop, and when he didn’t…I shot him.” I took a deep breath before I continued. “I thought that ended the organization altogether, but my brother picked up the pieces. He runs the operation to this day—and he hates me for what I did. And to be honest…I hate myself for what I did.” I stared at the ground because the guilt had been eating me alive for the last five years. I did what I thought was right, but it’d been haunting me ever since.
I killed my own father.
If he were another man, I wouldn’t have felt bad about it. But I’d committed a deadly sin. The operation was still running, so the murder didn’t make a difference. I already had my father’s blood on my hands; I couldn’t stand holding my brother’s too. “Damien is the only family I have. He’s the only friend I have. I’ve done a lot of other terrible things in my life, but that’s definitely the worst thing I’ve ever done. So…now you know me.”
There wasn’t much talking after that, especially since she didn’t ask any more personal questions. She seemed to have had enough of me. Her dinner was untouched, and the candle in the center of the table eventually burned out. We sat together in the darkness.
There were times when I wanted to justify my actions, but I knew it didn’t make a difference. I killed my own flesh and blood, the man who raised me, who took care of me until I became an adult. We disagreed on a lot of things, and I should have just let it be. That night still tortured me.
And I wondered if that was why the universe was punishing me.
I killed my father…so I didn’t deserve the love of this woman.
That was fair.
When it became late and the conversation remained stale, I got to my feet and prepared to walk her out. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
She stayed in the chair a moment longer, her mind elsewhere. When she pushed herself up and faced me, there was a new look in her eyes, a complex web of emotions I couldn’t even begin to describe. She was clearly about to say something to me, possibly yank that ring off her finger and call the whole thing off.
But the gypsy said Sofia would marry me, so I didn’t think that was likely.
“I’ve been trying to think of something to say for the last hour. I’ve still come up with nothing.” Her green eyes shifted back and forth as she looked into mine, her full lips sagging in a slight frown.
“You don’t need to say anything.” I was a horrible human being—message received.
“But I do.” She moved into me, getting closer than she’d been in a long time. Anytime she interacted with me, there was an invisible line she wouldn’t cross. There were always at least three feet in between us.
Now there were nearly none.
Her hand moved to my arm, her thumb resting in the crease of my elbow. “You were trying to do the right thing, and I admire you for that. Most men wouldn’t have cared about those girls, but you did. That makes me want to marry you…and not because I have to.”