Page 95 of Saved By A God
Shaking my head, I groan, “That was you?”
Tears fill her eyes as she nods, then her face crumples. “I’m so sorry.” A sob sputters from her, making her cover her mouth with a hand.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
“Bella mia,” I breathe, still in shock. “I hurt you?”
“No.” She shakes her head hard, her grip tightening on the towel. “No, Enzo. You didn’t know it was me.”
“Christ.” I take a step backward, pressing a hand to my chest. “I hurt you!”
“You didn’t know.” Her voice breaks as she says it again. “It wasn’t your fault.”
A rough breath leaves me while I stare at her. Only then do I see the ungodly fear in her eyes, and it rips me out of the shock, allowing me to recover at the speed of light.
I take in how she clutches the towel, the way she looks at me like she’s waiting for me to hate her.
“It wasn’t your fault either,” I say. “But now I get why all the information disappeared without a trace.”
Her lips part, but no sound comes out.
She fucking erased herself like she was nothing.
When I take a step in her direction, a tear spirals down her cheek, and she quickly shakes her head. “I should’ve told you. I know.”
“Maybe.” I close the distance between us and keep my voice gentle as I say, “But I understand why you didn’t.”
“I was scared,” she whimpers.
“I know.” I reach for her, taking hold of her bicep.
“I didn’t want to lose you,” she sobs, her chest heaving as she breathes faster and faster.
“You haven’t.” I tilt my head to keep eye contact. “You hear me? You can never lose me.” Her face tightens as more tears fill her eyes, and the sight damn near guts me. “I’m so sorry, Rosie.” I finally get to say the words to the woman I hurt. “I’m so fucking sorry it happened like that.”
She shakes her head again. “Don’t.”
“You deserve an apology.” My voice turns rough. “I’m sorry you cried into that fucking pillow. I’m sorry you were alone afterward.” Then I remember the pain she was in the following day, when she told me she had her period. “Most of all, I’m sorryyou felt you had to hide it from me. I was a fucking shit friend to you.”
A small sob catches in her throat, and her shoulders curl forward.
Needing to be a hundred percent sure, I ask, “Was it your first time?”
She squeezes her eyes shut as she sucks in a deep breath.
Christ.
“Rosie,” I whisper. “Tell me.”
She nods once, the movement so small I almost miss it.
“Come here,bella mia,” I say softly as I pull her to my chest.
She opens her eyes, looking scared and unsure, and when I wrap my arms around her, her features tighten even more, and her voice sounds unbelievably fragile as she asks, “You’re not angry with me?”
“Of course not.” She presses her face to my chest, and I lower my head until my mouth brushes over her damp hair. “I’m sorry,” I whisper again.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she sobs.
