Page 75 of Full Out Fiend
She scoffs as she dabs the sleeve of her shirt under her eyes. “Of course he knows which buttons to push. He’s the one who put them there in the first place.”
My blood pressure spikes. What’s it going to take to shake this guy?
“Contacting you after you blocked him is harassment.”
“I warned you,” she counters. “Anthony has a temper. When he’s determined to see something through—”
“That’s not an excuse!” I fist both hands in my hair, livid that this is even a topic of discussion. “Did you reply to that picture and tell him to stop?”
“Of course not! I didn’t tell him anything.”
She looks down at her hands and sighs. By now I’ve freaking had it. I rise out of bed, find my boxers on the floor, and pull them up quickly before coming to sit by her side. She’s not doubting me anymore—but that doesn’t take away from the intensity of the drama hanging over our heads.
We can’t live like this. Watching over our shoulders. Wondering if and when he’s going to contact her again. This isn’t love or pining. This is manipulation and control.
I wrap one arm around her, grateful when she melts into my side without hesitation. “This has to stop,” I whisper, tilting her chin to look into her eyes. “He can’t keep harassing you like this.”
“Why? Are you afraid there’s something he could do or find that would hurt us?”
I’m shocked silent by the question. She doesn’t really meanusin this case… She means me. I hadn’t even thought about it like that until now. My resolve is firm where Daphne’s concerned: I want her. I want us to be a family.
I won’t do anything to make Daphne question my integrity.
That doesn’t mean my past can’t come back to haunt me in very real, life-altering ways.
That my past indiscretions could be a sleeper cell and detonate everything I want in the present moment hadn’t even crossed my mind.
She knows about the night at Adley’s party. But there was another night in the not-so-distant past that was worse. My memories are as grainy as the picture on Daphne’s phone. I can’t defend or deny what could be said about one of the darkest nights of my life. Hell, I don’t even have a firm enough grasp on what the hell happened to explain it.
I only recall how I felt during the days leading up to that night when the woman I thought wanted more blocked my number. Then there’s the self-loathing that seeped from every pore when I woke up the next day. Everything between those moments is a blacked-out mystery.
“I’m sorry,” Daphne whispers before I have a chance to gather myself. “It’s not fair for me to question you because of my own insecurities.”
Oh, but it is fair. Fair. Warranted. Maybe even necessary. I just don’t know how to explain what I did. I have yet to reconcile who I was then with who I’m trying so damn hard to be.
“I don’t know how to do any of this relationship stuff as an adult,” she admits, nuzzling into my shoulder. “I haven’t been in a new relationship in over ten years… all the old insecurities and worries I clung to as a teenager are bubbling up again. I shouldn’t have even let myself react to that picture without talking to you first.”
I sigh, accepting that nothing is going to get figured out or solved this morning.
“You don’t have to apologize for your past, or for the things that bother you. I hate what he’s doing to you—what he’s trying to do to us. But I swear on the life of our child that I don’t want anything more in this world than you. I’m not going anywhere. I won’t do anything to make you question my feelings or loyalty. You have my word that I won’t hurt you, angel. I will spend every day of the rest of forever making you feel safe and loved.”
She sniffles quietly with what feels like weary acceptance as I grapple with the promises I’ve just made.
Every word of it is the truth: I won’t fuck this up. I refuse to let my past actions or behaviors affect our future in any negative way.
Although I’m firm in my promise, that doesn’t mean we’re home free. That night—what I did; the role I played in someone else’s misery—and the choices I made in the past could very well destroy our future.
Chapter 40
Daphne
Daysturnintoweeks.Life moves forward, both slowly and at a rapid pace. It’s officially November, which, according to Fielding, means the holiday season has begun. It’s cool and crisp in the mornings—perfect weather for sweaters and snuggling up in front of the fire.
We’ve fallen into the comfiest, coziest rhythm. Fielding goes to school, I go to work, then we come home every night and make the most of our time together.
Nights and weekends have become sacred. As exhausted as I am by the end of each day, our evenings together magically recharge me, and I’m more than ready to stay up late with my boyfriend by the time we go to bed. A few hours together each night just does it for me. It also helps that Fielding continues to rub my back, massage my feet, and dote on me every chance he gets.
I would feel spoiled if he made it seem indulgent in any way. But everything he does comes from a place of sincerity and obligation, as if it’s expected of him.