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“He was a cruel bastard, Tessa. Whatever nasty things he spewed that night mean nothing.”
“It wasn’t what he said,” I whisper. “It was what you said.”
Rafe tenses at my back. “What?”
“When he asked about children, you said it didn’t matter because we wouldn’t be having them regardless. That you had resolved not to have a family and our marriage would only ever be in name only.”
I’d steeled myself for it. It doesn’t stop the slice of pain cutting through me as if I were still sitting outside the study door in my wedding dress, tears rolling down my cheeks.
“Lucifer got angry with you. Furious, actually. You told him he should be proud of you for not having a heart. For not being capable of loving anyone, just like him. That you didn’t and would never love me.”
Why did he have to ask? Why did he have to ruin the aftermath of our lovemaking by bringing up the past? The pain?
I start to roll away. Rafe’s hand clamps down on my waist and he rolls me back toward him. He grips my chin in his hand and lifts my head so that I’m looking at him.
“My not wanting children has nothing to do with you, Tessa. And I…” He hesitates. “I care—”
“I know.” I truly do. “It just…at the time, I never thought I would get married. Never thought I would have a family of my own. You offered me an escape and I latched on to what you offered without thinking things through.”
He stares down at me. I force myself to meet his gaze even as guilt constricts my chest. Can he see the omission lurking beneath the surface? That I once believed myself in love with him and latched on to his proposal like a besotted fool?
“I would not be a good father. I’m not a good husband. I don’t have the emotional capacity to serve in either role. I should have had that conversation with you before we married.”
“There are two people in this.” I lay one hand on his cheek. Something flickers in his eyes. “I could have said something, too. Should have. But I did what you’ve been cautioning me not to do; latched on to the fairy tale and didn’t stop to think about the ramifications.”
He blinks, his lips parting as he exhales.
“Tessa…if I could—”
“But you can’t.”
I don’t want to hear empty platitudes or meaningless promises. Rafe has been nothing but honest with me from the beginning. If I had been as transparent as him, we would have never made it to the altar.
Although I can’t regret it now. Not after everything that’s happened. Not just between us but with my life. Marrying Rafe gave me a courage I hadn’t even realized I’d had. If I hadn’t said yes to his proposal, I’d like to think I would have eventually made a move on my own.
But I also know it’s entirely possible I would still be languishing back on Santorini, staring out over the sea and wishing for a different life.
He gets up and pours us both a glass of brandy from the bar in the corner of the room. As I sit against the headboard, enjoying the spicy taste and flash of fire on my tongue, he brings my wheelchair in from the balcony and puts it next to my side of the bed. Touched, I stare down into my glass.
“Tessa—”
“It’s okay, Rafe.” I look up and offer him the brightest smile I can. “I promise.”
I don’t tell him that I wish things could be different as he sets our empty glasses down and rejoins me in bed. That as we lie together, skin to skin, I can feel the soft whispers of old feelings on the edges of my heart. There’s no point in sharing that.
“This…” He pauses, as if searching for the right words. “This doesn’t feel right.”
I caress his shoulder, his biceps, then drift my fingers over his chest. Farther down over the ridges of his abdomen to his hardening length.
“It feels right to me.”
“Tessa,” he groans.
“Make love to me again, Rafe. Please,” I whisper.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rafe