"Oh my god... I-I don't even know what to say... I don't know what to do."
He presses down on his lips, nodding. "I feel like we say that a lot."
I chuckle softly, gaping. "Ye-yeah, I think we do."
I blink as he moves towards me, looking down at my face as if I'm about to sprint from him at any second. He stops before me and reaches down for my wrist. Completely at his mercy, my legs straighten and I'm staring up at him, inches away from his face.
I breathe his name in an exhale and he bends down, taking my lips with force. My arms go around his broad shoulders until my fingers are spreading through his hair desperately. I'm jello in his arms, shivering as his fingers trail over my back, ending on my hip.
Gasping, I pull back, dropping my forehead onto his chest.
"I have so many questions."
Cupping my neck, he tilts my head up to look at him. "Ask me anything. I have no secrets from you."
"... Murder? Your father murdered someone?"
"He didn't physically do it. He had a man, someone that worked for him, do it."
"I didn't even know what your father did."
"He was the governor of California then."
"... So, this is going to destroy his reputation."
He nods slowly, running his hand over my hair. I touch his face, knowing this has to be killing him. I just don't understand why he did it... I can't judge him, especially knowing he did this in a effort to fix everything but he was so against turning him in. I can't wrap my head around it.
He looks over from the wall. "What?"
"Why? Why did you do this?"
"I-I got a call this morning- from my lawyer. He explained to me that Casey wasn't the only one with evidence. A man back in Los Angeles had- had a cell recording of my father setting up the time and place- fucking everything. I met up with my father and we came up with this together."
I feel myself actually deflate in his arms with relief. "So he knew? He knew you were turning him in?"
I nod, finally understanding. "That's why you were working with the police..."
"Yes, I got a deal if I cooperated in outing Casey's involvement."
"God, and I almost fucked it up. I'm so sorry. I had no idea... I was just confused and worried."
"I know. That's my fault. I shouldn't have told you then," he whispers.
I sigh heavily, wrapping my hands around his waist. "That must have been so hard for you. All of it."
I feel his lips on my hair. "... Have you eaten anything?"
I pull back slowly. "No."
Looking determined, he nods. "I'll make us something."
As I watch him walk away towards the kitchen, I realize he isn't going to show me what this has done to him.
He stands at the stove, silent as a mouse. He's making something with chicken. I've frankly been too nervous to go over and check what it is. We haven't said a word to each other in the past ten minutes.
YOU ARE READING
What do you do when disaster strikes? You survive. On the night before her entire life changes, Genevieve Harding was walking along the shoreline with a man she'd only just met. Tristan Maddox. A man who grazed the pages of the magazines and newspa...