Page 208 of My Dark Prince
“I’m not repeating myself.”
“Fine, fine. I heard you the first time.” I let go of his shirt and gestured for him to continue.
“I know I started that fight, and even if I didn’t, I shouldn’t have blamed you for this.” He circled his covered face with a finger. “You didn’t intend for any of this to happen.”
“I didn’t,” I promised. “I’m so fucking sorry for it, Seb. You have no idea.”
“I do, though. You’ve only told me a million times. I just needed someone to blame.” He swiped a hand down his face, knocking off his glasses. “And shit, asking you to not be happy for the rest of your life is next-level fucked up, and I’m sorry for that, too. I thought seeing you miserable would somehow make me happy, but it didn’t.”
“That’s not the only reason I dumped Briar.”
“No,” he agreed. “You left her because you blamed yourself for my face, and you thought you couldn’t protect her and worse – that you didn’t deserve her. I didn’t help there. But I can help now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean …” He sighed, dropping onto the couch with a soft thump. “Maybe you don’t need to babysit me all the time. I’m not gonna hold it over your head if you finally have a life beyond me.”
“But I want you to get better.”
“I’m never getting better, Oliver.”
“But youcan.” I began to pace, the alcohol wearing off faster as I saw a chance and seized it. “It’s different now. There are better doctors, modern medicine, new technology—”
“And I’ll never look exactly as I did fifteen years ago.”
I tossed my arms in the air. “Of course, you won’t. You’re old as shit now.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Fine. We’ll take baby steps. I’ll visit you every day. Maybe we can hire someone to—”
“No,” he cut me off, a lone pillow stuffed on his lap as if it could protect him from my eager demands. “I came to apologize, not to sit through another lecture. I’ll never get better, Oliver. That’s a fucking fact. Accept it. I just refuse to be the reason you break up with Briar again.”
“We’re still together.”
“For how much longer?” He nudged an empty bottle of Jack off the coffee table with his toe. “This is unsustainable.”
“My liver says otherwise.”
“This is stupid. Just move in with her. Problem solved.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s in Los Angeles.”
He sent me a look that conveyed just how stupid he found me. “So, follow her.”
“But you’re …”
“A thorn in your side?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But that’s the truth. I am, and I have been for fifteen years.” The tension between us softened. He shifted on the couch cushion, still visibly on edge, but he didn’t back down. “Well, I’m freeing you from the burden.”
The breeze carried in the scent of fresh pine and salt water. I barely noticed.
