Bound By Lies - Rafe Cameron

Chapter 66

The drive to Tannyhill is a blur, my thoughts a chaotic mess that I can't seem to untangle. Rafe's words keep looping in my mind, over and over, until they've woven themselves into the very fabric of my thoughts, making it impossible to think about anything else.

"We're the same."

I've spent hours thinking about it, replaying every moment, every argument, every secret we've kept from each other. I've thought about the way he looked at me, the way he spoke, the way he didn't flinch when I admitted that I wanted to hurt someone.

It's not fair, is it? The way I've judged him. The way I've condemned him for being the exact person I'm afraid to admit I am.

Because, deep down, I know the truth.

If I had been honest with myself from the start, if I hadn't buried that part of me, maybe I wouldn't be so angry. Maybe I wouldn't be so hurt. Maybe I wouldn't have blamed him for being everything I was trying so hard not to be.

So here I am. Heading to him. Heading to forgive him.

Because maybe, just maybe, I need forgiveness too.

When I pull up to Tannyhill, I can see his figure through the windows of the main house, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. My chest tightens at the sight of him—so tense, so on edge, like he's always waiting for the next fight, the next crisis, the next betrayal.

Because that's what I've done to him, isn't it? Kept him constantly on guard, constantly wondering if I'd turn on him, if I'd leave him.

Just like everyone else.

I take a deep breath, stepping out of the car and making my way to the door. The air feels thick, charged with tension and anticipation, and I feel my hands trembling as I raise one to knock.

The door swings open before I can, and there he is—standing in front of me, his face a mask of surprise and something like desperation. His eyes—those familiar, beautiful eyes—widen slightly as they meet mine, and I see the way his shoulders tense, the way he takes a small step back, like he's bracing himself.

"Teresa," he murmurs, his voice low and rough, almost hesitant. "What... what are you doing here?"

I swallow hard, my chest tightening painfully as I look up at him, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, the tense set of his jaw. "I... I needed to see you," I whisper softly, my voice trembling. "I needed to talk to you."

He blinks, confusion flickering across his face as he steps aside, gesturing for me to come in. I step past him, the familiar scent of Tannyhill washing over me—lavender and cedarwood, the scent of the house I've come to know as much as my own.

"Okay," he murmurs cautiously, closing the door behind us. He turns to face me, his gaze searching mine, his hands twitching at his sides like he's not sure what to do with them. "What's going on?"

I take a deep breath, gathering every bit of courage I have, every bit of strength I've managed to hold onto in the aftermath of everything that's happened. "I wanted to tell you that... that I forgive you."

His eyes widen, shock flashing across his features, and he shakes his head slowly, like he didn't hear me right. "What?" he breathes, his voice barely more than a whisper. "What did you say?"

"I forgive you," I repeat softly, my voice breaking just a little. "For everything. For... for lying, for not telling me the truth about what happened to my aunt. For everything that's happened since. I... I can't keep holding it over your head. It's not fair."

He stares at me, his mouth opening and closing like he's struggling to find the words. "But... but I don't understand," he murmurs, shaking his head again. "Why now? Why... why would you—"