Ruins (The Jewel Project #6)

24. Ruins

It didn't fix anything. Or at least, it shouldn't have. Tom couldn't tell. But the words had slipped out of his mouth and now he couldn't take them back.

He wished he could. A tiny part of him even felt they should have died. The perfect, poetic ending to a life and a relationship that had been imperfect from the start.

But they were still alive, him resting with his back against one wall, her against the other, both blankets draped over her shoulders.

They hadn't talked since waking up. He'd come to his senses first, wrapped his blanket around her and crawled to the opposite wall. His left thigh still burned, and he was convinced he was unable to stand. Unable to protect her and himself.

Inadequate.

When she'd woken up, she'd asked if he was okay. He hadn't answered and she got the message. They've both been drifting in and out of consciousness since. This was a rare moment in which both of them were awake.

The words still lingered between them. His and hers as well. A declaration of love forced out of their mouths by fear and the conviction it would be the last thing they said to each other.

Unfortunately, it didn't make it less true. He still loved her. But that didn't mean he could keep dancing this dance with her. He was way past that. And still, he couldn't think past her, couldn't imagine being with someone else. But, to be fair, he couldn't imagine getting out of that cage either. What made it worse was that he wasn't sure he wanted to. It would be so easy to die there, because then he could allow himself to love her.

"Tom?"

He looked away. His eyes burned with unshed tears and he wished he could think of something else, but he was too exhausted to control himself.

Exhausted from the beatings and the torture, exhausted from pretending that he was okay. Exhausted from loving her when he knew he shouldn't.

She crawled on all fours to him, the blankets on her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"Go back to your side."

"Your voice... Tom?"

His chin trembled and his vision blurred, but he refused to look at her. Just another second. If he could hold it in just another second...

She leaned against him, took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. The tears slid down his cheeks, and with them all his self control.

"You ruined me," he blurted out. "And now you come and act all caring and noble and... and..."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"I don't care that you're sorry! I don't need a fucking apology, I need--"

"What? What do you need?"

Her. He needed her. But the Angie he thought he knew, the one he'd build a life with. The brave one who was there for him and didn't run away. The one who had kept him company inside his head while he got tortured.

"You said you loved me," he said instead.

"Because it's true." Her voice was barely audible and she leaned closer to him. The heat of her body warmed him up better than the pathetic blanket ever could.

"I need more than that."

She pulled back, her eyes wide and curious. "What?"

"You've loved me before and look how that turned out." He sniffed, trying to pull himself together.

She leaned against him again, her head on his chest. "You have a point there."

"I can't do that again. I'm way past it. I'm..."