Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 132649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“I wish I’d been the man you needed me to be,” he said, his voice dropping to a low growl. “I wish I’d been stronger, more confident of what we had. I wish I hadn’t allowed external forces to tear us apart. But I’m just a man. A weak, dumb, often foolish, human male. I’m smaller than my fame, more ordinary than my legend, and I’m fucking nothing without you, Iris.”
Iris’s trembling hand lifted to her cover her mouth, hoping to force back the sobs that threatened to tumble into the void between them.
He put the bottle down, gently palmed her cheeks, and bent his head until his forehead came to rest on hers.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his warm breath washing against the back of her hand. “I didn’t treat you well. I know that. I should have cherished you, and I didn’t. But I love you so much, Iris. I always will. I know my timing is shit, I know this puts you on the spot and I’m sorry about that too. You don’t have to say anything right now. Or ever. We’ll go back to pouring this champagne before your dad kills us but I couldn’t let another second go by without telling you that I love you. If you tell me today that you don’t love me, it’ll break my heart but I’ll leave you alone. But if, by some miracle, your love survived the apocalypse of my doubt, then I’ll announce my retirement and we’ll figure out the rest together, okay?”
“You know I don’t want you to do that, Trystan. I never wanted that. That’s not how it should be. Like I told you in my text I don’t know how we could possibly work… but I’m fairly certain that you starting with a sacrifice of such magnitude is not the key to a successful relationship. One person shouldn’t have to give up everything to be with the other.”
“You’re still not getting it, Iris. Losing you would mean losing everything. All the rest? It’s just noise.”
He let her go and stepped away from her.
“So this is what a penance tour looks like, huh?” she murmured, remembering Chance’s words and Trystan managed a wry smile, despite the somber fear in his eyes.
“Go big, or go home, right?” he said, picking up the bottle again. He peered at the clock. “We have ten minutes to finish this.”
Iris glanced around the room, and heads and eyes suddenly averted, while the silence was filled with sudden inane chatter. For once, her father wasn’t yelling at everyone to get back to work. Instead, he was watching Iris and Trystan with a speculative frown on his face. He met her eyes and nodded cryptically, before going back to organizing the kitchen clean-up crew.
Iris managed to get her quota of glasses filled on time, despite her shaky hands and poor concentration. Her glasses were much less uniform than Trystan’s and to her chagrin, he topped up the too-low ones without saying a word.
Once they’d completed their assignment, with three minutes to spare, she excused herself and rushed to the staff bathroom, needing a moment to compose herself. Once there, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, trying to make sense of Trystan’s words in her confused brain. He loved her. She’d known that already. She’d known it all along, but somewhere along the line, probably right around the time he’d dumped her at the side of the road, she’d convinced herself that their love wasn’t enough to overcome all these obstacles.
It had been easy to believe that while they’d been apart and even easier to persuade herself that the gaping holes in her heart and her soul were wounds she would get used to eventually. Like a bum knee, or chronic back pain, it would always be there, but she’d have to simply… live with it.
Now here he was telling her that it didn’t have to be that way. That they could both walk out of this healed, renewed, pain free. All she had to do was believe in him and trust that this time his love was strong enough to overcome any obstacle.
And that’s where she hit a wall because how was this different to last time? How were these promises and confessions of love more sincere than the last? Because she’d believed and trusted him then. She’d had faith in the power and strength of their love and look where that had got her.
She rinsed her face, needing the shock of cold water to heighten her senses.
She so desperately wanted to believe in his promises but how could she? How could she ever trust him again?
Trystan was acutely aware of the scrutiny of every pair of eyes in the kitchen, but kept his head down and his hands busy. He made sure each round silver tray was loaded with exactly ten evenly spaced, full champagne flutes, and when that was done he tidied up their workstation, wiping surfaces with a damp cloth, then rinsing and discarding the empty bottles.