Page 79 of Sweet Possession

After what felt like an eternity, we reached our floor. When the doorsgracefully slid open revealing the foyer of our suite, Fox waved a hand, letting me step out first.

I’d been so excited to see the suite, but with the heavy rockthathadsettled in my belly, excitement was nowhere to be seen. I followed Fox through to the living area, keeping my head bowed.

“Can I get you anything, baby girl?”Fox said, loosening his bow tie.

“You don’t need to stay,”I replied quickly as guilt joined the myriad ofemotions pounding through me when he took his jacket off.“You should go back to the party.”

And Dominique.

His face contorted as if he’djustsucked on a bitter lemon.“I’m notleaving you alone, especially if you’re unwell.”

There was no point trying to argue, notthatI ever did. I was nothingbut a pushover, no wonderthatwoman had said I wasn’t strong enough to handle a man like Fox.

“I’d like to go to bed,”I said, finding our overnight bags had beenbrought up from Fox’s car, and were waiting on the sofa.

“Our bedroom is over there,”Fox replied, pointing to a hallway off theliving area.“Go and lay down, and I’ll bring you some water.”

I didn’t move, but tears once again began welling in my eyes at theknowledgethatwhat I was about to say was going to hurt the both of us.

“Is there another bedroom? I’d like to be alone.”

He reared back as if I’d slapped him, and I couldn’t stop a tear fromsliding down my cheek.

“We sleep together, Cora. I’m not sleeping without you in my arms,”he replied, desperation in his voice which only added to the pain spreading through me.

Another tear fell. I hatedthatI was hurting him, but I had to protectmyself. I didn’t know what was going to happen tomorrow, or the day after, orevenin a month’s time. But what I did know isthatfrom this moment on, I had to protect myself from further damage.

I sucked in a breath, willing myself to be strong, if only for aminute.“You said I always had a choice. I choose to sleep alone.”

My voice cracked on the last word when anguish flashed throughFox’s coppery eyes.

He didn’t reply for a long, tense beat, but a muscle ticked in his jaw.“Okay, Cora. If that’s what you want.”He paused, giving me a chance to change my mind. I didn’t.“Take the master bedroom, I’ll sleep in the other room.”

Disappointment washed through me,eventhough he was respectingmy wishes. I didn’t want to sleep without him either, but I needed space. Space to think. Space to work out what I was going to do.

Space to breathe.

Fox held my gaze, trapping me on the spot. It was as if he was tryingto read my mind, to crawl under my skin, and understand what was going on in my head.

With every ounce of willpower I possessed, I looked away andreleased a heavy breath. Blinking tears from my eyes, I spun and grabbed my bag.

But before disappearing down the hallway to the bedroom, Fox calledmy name. I paused, but I didn’t turn back, cowardly avoiding the hurt I was sure to see on his face.

“I’ll be right here. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be waiting, baby girl.”

Atthatmoment, I was glad I hadn’t faced him. Otherwise, he wouldhave seen the waterfall cascading down my cheeks.

My dad once said to methatthe only way to get through life was tonot depend on anyone. They’d only let you down when you needed them the most. He said love was a weakness. It made you vulnerable. Left you in theclutches of someone who would inevitably crush your heart in the palm of their hands with a smile on their face.

I didn’t believe him. No matter how badly he treated me, no matterwhat hurtful words he threw my way, I always had hopethatone day, I’d find someone to give my love to, and have their love in return. To have someone by my side through the good times, and the bad.

But now I knew the truth.

Having hope was stupid. Hope was a diseasethatgnawed throughthe roots of pointless wishes and dreams, leaving them in tatters.

Hope was a curse.

It was these thoughtsthatcircled my head as I sobbed into the pillow,still wearing the dress I’d worn to the party, finally crying myself to sleep.