Page 142 of Under Your Scars

“I’m sorry about my husband,” Bethany says, noticing my stare-off with him. “He’s got a temper, but he shouldn’t have done that.”

I shake my head. “It’s okay.”

“You might not have won over Elliot yet, but I’m in your corner.”

I laugh. “Thank you for saying that. I really do love your daughter. More than I ever thought I was capable of.”

“She’s crazy about you,” Bethany quips. “Talks about you nonstop. Tells me how happy you make her, and I’m not just talking about the expensive gifts and the trips and that big house she’s living in, Christian. You make her happy, deep in her soul, even if your relationship was hanging on by a thread after what happened to her. Don’t ever doubt the way she feels about you. She’d do anything to make you as happy as you make her.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” I look over my shoulder towards Elena and sigh. “Bethany, tell me what I can do. Elliot isn’t going anywhere, and neither am I. You know him best. What is it going to take to get him to understand that I’m not my father?”

Her face falls slightly, but it perks right back up into a sad smile. “I think all you can do is give him time to see for himself how much you love our daughter. Give him time to understand that fate brought you back into his life for a reason. I think that reason is forgiveness. For both of you. I think he will come to his senses soon. If not…” She trails off and begins a new train of thought. “He told me that you almost killed him, but you didn’t for Elena’s sake. I can’t say the same about my husband. You showed restraint where he didn’t. That makes you a good man.”

I scoff. “I have bad news for you, Bethany. I am not a good man. Please don’t get it in your head that I am. I love Elena and I would do absolutely anything for her. Anything. That makes me the worst kind of man. Love is the most volatile poison in the universe. I’m not a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but I make you a promise on my life, that Elena will always be safe with me, even if it costs me everything in the end.”

“I believe you,” Bethany says, her voice morphing into that of a concerned but hopeful mother. “I trust you. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Understood,” I reply curtly. She seems content with my answer. “May I ask you something personal about your relationship with your husband?” She nods. “Diana and his kids were killed in 1989. Elena was born in 1990. How long were you two together before you married?”

Bethany laughs. “Elena was an ‘oopsie’ baby, as was her brother. Elliot craved distraction from his grief, so I gave it to him. He asked me to marry him when I found out I was pregnant with Elena, but we didn’t actually have a ceremony until 1993.”

I chuckle mournfully. “Elena once told me that you call Elliot your soulmate because you fell in love with him despite him being so hard to love. I guess she didn’t realize the true meaning of that statement.”

“Her father is her hero. He’s been a good dad, even if he says hurtful things sometimes. Remember that he loved her first, Christian. He’ll have a permanent place in her heart, no matter what.”

A smile tugs up the corners of my lips. “Maybe by the time Elena and I get married, he might be able to tolerate me.”

Bethany perks up at the thought of her daughter getting married. “How old are you?”

Quite a change in topic.

“Thirty-six,” I answer with a raised eyebrow.

She laughs. “I expect at least two grandchildren by the time you’re forty. If she doesn’t have a ring on her finger by next Christmas, I think I will die.”

I chuckle, pulling out the engagement ring that’s been burning a hole in my pocket for weeks. I present it to Bethany for inspection. She twists it and bounces on her toes in delight at the way it sparkles.

“Does it get your seal of approval?”

She sighs, and dramatically puts her hand to her head and pretends to fall over. I catch her easily. “If Elena doesn’t marry you, I will.”

“You know, I don’t think Elliot would appreciate me stealing his wifeandhis daughter. I might start World War III.”

She hands back the ring. “You’d start a war for love?”

“For Elena? I wouldn’t just start a war. I’d win it.”

I dance with Bethany for a few more songs, grab my own old fashioned at the bar, and make small talk with a few of the insufferable businessmen who recognize me.

Elena and I take a few polaroid photos together. One for the guestbook, and a few just for us that I put into my wallet for safekeeping. She’s become a little bit tipsy, dancing with her equally tipsy mother to a few pop hits. I smile at her when she catches my gaze across the room and I flash my cigarette case at her, indicating that I’m going outside for a smoke.

I leave the reception hall and step outside into the chilly December air, and light one.Cigarettes are objectively awful for me, but something about the action of smoking helps me think.

I really hate this situation with Elliot. I think Bethany was right. There’s a reason I fell in love with the daughter of the man who killed my parents. Probably a lesson in restraint, if I had to guess.

For the past two years of my life, I’ve committed dozens of murders because I felt like I had no choice. The only way I could keep up the act of the charming CEO during the day is if I committed brutal savageries at night. I always justified my kills by telling myself I’d only kill other bad people.

But now that I know the truth about my father, I don’t think my urges were uncontrollable at all.