I frowned. Wasn't that reason to rush? To solidify perfection before it was stolen once again?
Her head tilted, eyes darting over my face. "Every time you move, your skin glitters with tiny scars. Scars that I put there." Her voice was barely audible. "If you're suffering with guilt, how do you think I feel living every day with evidence of what I did to you?"
Goddammit, she thought I minded? She thought I was so superficial to care about the small marks she'd laced my body with? I didn't. I fucking loved them. I loved that I wore my love for her. I loved that I was strong enough to face my terror.
Softening my voice, I murmured, "Every lash and wound you gave me brought you back to life. I never want you to think I begrudge them, because I don't."
She swallowed hard. "You always know what to say."
"You're forgetting I sense everything you feel." I didn't admit that was only a half-truth. Trying to figure out her lies had become harder and harder. Her skill at fibbing was adapting, which meant I had to break her habit fast. I refused to let her protect me by bottling everything inside.
Bill cleared his throat, his footsteps loud on the jetty behind us.
I let Tess go, spinning to face him. "What?"
His eyes flickered to Tess before saying, "I'll be on radio frequency 3139 when you're ready to leave. Give me an hour to get here, but I'll be on call for you for however long you need."
I nodded. "Fine. Thank you."
Bill dragged a hand through his hair, then turned to patrol back to the boat.
A rush of pride filled me. This was right. This was as it should be. No one else mattered in the world but Tess, and I didn't want to share the most special day with anyone else.
Tess suddenly planted a swift, chaste kiss on my lips, taking me by surprise.
I froze, fighting the swelling in my trousers. "What was that for?"
She smiled, bowling me over with how fucking beautiful she was. "For being you. For being perfect."
I chuckled, but it held pain and a slight web of confusion. "I'm not perfect, esclave. You're mistaking me for someone else."
She bit her lip, shaking her head. She threaded her fingers with mine. Her touch kept the darkness and snarling monsters locked inside. "You're perfect to me. Perfect for me."
My heart thudded, sending warmth through my veins. I didn't deserve her. I blinked, suddenly seeing the rush-the manic journey to an island in the middle of nowhere-as a desperate attempt at locking her to me forever.
What the fuck am I doing?
I was about to marry the one person I would love past all existence, and I'd forced her to marry me in private. She didn't deserve to be squirrelled away. She deserved to be in a gorgeous gown dripping with diamonds and placed on a pedestal where I could honour her for the rest of my life.
This might be what I wanted, but it wasn't fair to her.
I sighed, expelling the air in a rush. Raising my voice, I shouted after Bill. "Don't leave. Not yet. We're going back to the mainland."
Bill turned, acknowledging my request with a small wave before jumping back into the boat.
Tess flinched. "Why did you say that? We just got here."
This wasn't right. But I would make it right. I brushed a curl behind her ear. "C'est une erreur." This is a mistake.
She took a hasty step back. "Excuse me?"
My heart stuttered at the pain in her voice. The insecurity in her eyes, the terror in her body only confirmed my decision. I wanted her happy and strong. I wanted her joyous and walking with no burdens or heavy shackles when I made her mine. So much darkness layered our lives, overshadowing us from too many corners.
If we got married like this it would stain our entire lifetime together. And I wouldn't do it.
Not when I had the chance to fix it.
"I can't marry you. Not like this." I waved between us, indicating the distance, the ghosts separating us. "We haven't resolved what we went through. We've shoved it away, hoping to forget, but we'll never forget. What happened is a part of us, as much as we'd like to pretend otherwise."
My face twisted with ferocity. "I want to pretend you were never taken and hurt. I want to imagine you were never drugged and made to take another's life. And I want to forget the bone-crippling pain when I couldn't find you and thought I'd lost you forever."
Something shifted. The heaviness I'd been living with faded just a little as Tess met my eyes. "Q … "
The delicate agreement between us-the one that said we'd try to protect each other by not sharing-shredded. Gone was the need to pretend we were alright. Gone was the stupidity to act as if we were normal.