"And you met Jarrett."
"This isn't about Jarrett!" Tressa resisted stomping her foot. Her hands were in fists.
"You could have come with me after the battle in Risos. You chose to stay with him in that bunker under the sand." Bastian's voice cracked. "I waited for you."
"That time." Tressa said it under her breath, but she knew he could hear it—just as she knew he could hear her unspoken accusation. When they were unable to conceive, thanks to Granna, he’d moved on to other women.
Silence hung in the air. Thick. Ugly.
Bastian's shoulders drooped. "I'm sorry. I know. I was younger then. Stupid. I thought we'd never be together, and I didn't think any of the other trysts mattered. If I had thought, even for a moment, that we'd be free of Hutton's Bridge and have a chance to be together again..."
“There are things you don’t know,” Tressa said, her lips trembling. She rested a hand on her stomach. “I was pregnant with our child. We conceived a baby in the grove where our parents hid.”
“Was?” Bastian’s hand cupped Tressa’s cheek. “What happened?”
“I was poisoned and lost the baby.” Tears choked Tressa’s throat. “When I stayed in the bunker, I was pregnant.”
Bastian’s hand dropped. The pained look on his face tortured Tressa.
“I didn’t know then, I swear it to you.” Tressa grasped Bastian’s hands. “I didn’t find out until I miscarried. If I had known…”
“Things might be different?” Bastian asked, his voice a whisper.
Tressa looked up at Bastian. The boy she'd loved stood in front of her. His eyes pleaded with her. Asking for what? Forgiveness? Another chance?
Then there was Jarrett. She loved him. She knew that deep down he was the one for her.
"Tressa?" Bastian's hand hovered in the air. Slowly it lowered onto her hair.
Her heart beat fast. Too fast. Fire licked in her belly, all the memories of her past with Bastian flooding back. Standing in this cottage with him felt too familiar.
She took his hand in hers, lowering it slowly away from her face. He held her fingers gently, lacing his though hers.
"Bastian, we shouldn't." It came out as a whisper. “Jarrett. Elinor.”
"I can't stop wanting you," he said.
She ventured a glance down and his body echoed what he'd told her. Despite her attempts to think of Jarrett, to push away all of the feelings and memories she shared with Bastian, she couldn't stop. Not here. Not in this place.
Tressa stood on her tiptoes, her lips landing on Bastian's. Her body melted against his, feeling all the familiar contours as his hand fumbled at her top.
"Are you sure?" he asked, pulling back for a moment.
Tressa grasped his face, pulling him closer. She jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist. His hands found their way to her bottom as he stumbled toward the bed, laying her down gently.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Tressa rolled out of Bastian's arms and sat up, her eyes squinting into rays from the rising sun. She looked down at his face, his eyes lightly shut and his mouth open, a small snore dropping from his lips. After making love, they'd sleepily agreed it would be the last time. They both had something they'd needed to get out of their systems. Tressa had no interest in going back to Bastian, and he seemed to understand that.
Her thoughts turned to Jarrett. She wasn't sure if she felt what she'd just done was a betrayal. Her heart still loved Jarrett. Nothing had changed. This was a moment stolen from the past. Irrelevant to her future.
"Bastian," she said, nudging his arm.
He grunted, wiped his nose, then opened his eyes. "Tressa." He smiled, followed by panic in his eyes. "Tressa!" He sat up, the blanket dripping precariously down his naked hips.
"It's okay," she said. "I was going to head south. I thought you should leave before me, just in case the spell keeps you trapped in here."
"Good idea.” He gathered the blanket around his waist. "Last night was—”
"It was last night," Tressa said. She turned her back, giving him time to get his clothes on. "We're adults, Bastian. We don't have to make more of this than it was." Tressa waited, listening to him pull up his pants. She turned around just as he was pulling his shirt over his head. One glance at his taut stomach told her the truth. What happened last night was simply a mirror of their past. Not their present. Not their future. She still loved Jarrett.
Bastian rubbed his chin. "There is one thing." He paused, but he didn't need to finish.
"Elinor," Tressa said. She rested a hand on Bastian's shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't tell her. It would only hurt her, and that wasn't our intention."