Unveiled(117)
“I’m telling you that I’m going to the Temple. I’ve accepted Charlie’s out, and—”
“No! I hate to think of you with her.” I know that’s the least of our problems at the moment, but possessiveness is getting stronger by the second. I can’t control it.
“Shhhh,” he hushes me abruptly, placing a finger over my lips. “I thought I told you to listen carefully.”
“I am!” I’m going to lose my mind. “And I don’t like what I’m hearing!”
“Olivia, please.” He takes my shoulders and shakes me a little. “I need to go on that date. It’s the only way I’ll get into the Temple and close to Charlie. I won’t be touching that woman.”
Close to Charlie. I withdraw, wide eyed. “You really are going to kill him, aren’t you?” I don’t know why I’m asking. He’s told William. I heard it with my own ears, but maybe I thought I’d wake up. This is the longest nightmare ever.
“I need you to be strong for me, Olivia.” His grip increases, almost to the point of pain. He pushes his lips to my forehead and breathes in deeply. “Trust me.”
Seeing the pleading in Miller’s eyes jars something within me, and then the flashbacks from the repulsive footage replay over in my mind. It takes only a second for me to recall the overwhelming need I felt to see Miller hurt that man. To know justice had been done. I want this to be over. I want Miller to be mine now. And then Miller’s words. They make perfect sense now.
You possess every part of me, Olivia Taylor. For all of the wrongs I have done and all that I am yet to do, I’m asking for your mercy. Only your love will see me through this hell.
“Okay.” I don’t even shock myself with my easy acceptance. This is an easy decision. I’m suddenly full to the brim with resolve. I’m sound-minded and determined.
I want to be free of the invisible chains, because I am shackled, too. But more than anything, I want Miller to be free. Wholly free. He gets to decide who he belongs to. He chooses me, and that can’t happen until this shit is over. He’ll never be mine until this is finished. No interferers. No living on the edge. Our histories will be as they should be. History.
“Do it,” I whisper. “I’ll be here for you. Always.” His eyes fill with water, and his chin trembles, fueling my own tears to build. “Don’t cry,” I beg, placing myself into his chest and guiding his arms around my back. “Please, don’t cry.”
“Thank you.” His words are disjointed and gruff as he cuddles me fiercely. “I don’t think I could love you any harder.”
“I’m quite fascinated by you, too.” I smile sadly, already planning what on earth I can do to busy myself when he sees through his promise to kill Charlie.
Can you die for one night and come back to life?
* * *
Once we’ve finally relented and given up our holds of each other, Miller takes his phone and wanders out of the kitchen to make a few calls.
In the meantime, I wander pointlessly around the kitchen, searching for something to do, anything to clean up or tidy. Nothing. I sigh my exasperation and find the dishcloth under the sink, then set about wiping up water marks around the sink that aren’t there. I go over and over the same spots, rubbing at shiny stainless steel until I can see my face in it. It’s an awful sight, so I continue with my senseless wiping.
But then I pause.
Boom…
I slowly turn, armed with the damp cloth, and rest against the sink, looking across to him at the entrance. He’s leaning on the doorframe, spinning the phone slowly in his hand.
“Okay?” I ask, folding the cloth and turning away from him to put it in its rightful place, thinking I should try an attempt at normal. I laugh at my stupid endeavor. I have no idea what normal is.
When I get no answer, I pivot slowly, biting my lip nervously.
“Arrangements have been made.” He means for his supposed date.
I nod mildly, my fingers now rotating my ring nervously. “When?”
“Tonight.”
“Tonight!” I blurt out, shocked. That soon?
“There’s an event at the Temple. I’m required to accompany her.”
“Right.” I gulp, then nod decisively. “What’s the time?”
“Six.”
“What time…” I pull up and take a deep breath. “What time is your date?” The words make me want to vomit.
“Eight,” he answers tightly, keeping cool blues on my fake brave face.
“So we have two hours to get you ready.”
He frowns. “We?”
“Yes. I’m going to help you.” I’m going to bathe him, shave him, dress him, and kiss him good-bye, like a woman would who’s seeing her boyfriend off for work. Just a day in the office. That’s all.