Chapter 48: The Unwanted Marriage: Chapter 48

“Dion!” I’m shaken out of my dream violently, Faye’s worried gaze roaming over my face. “Oh God,” she says, her arms wrapping around me. “I was so worried. You wouldn’t wake up.”

I blink a few times as reality edges into existence and hug her back. Sometime during the night, she climbed on top of me and pulled me upright, my clammy body pressed against hers.

“

.” Her name is a prayer on my lips, a plea. I bury my face against her neck as my mother’s words resound through my mind.

She pulls away a little to look at me, her hands on my shoulders. “What happened? What did you dream about? I’ve never seen you like that, Dion. You were thrashing in your sleep, begging for something and apologizing over and over again.”

I was? I don’t remember that part. With each second that passes, more of my dream fades away, but my mother’s harsh warnings stay at the forefront of my mind.

“She’s right,” I murmur. “I’ll lose you eventually, won’t I? You’ll never forgive me.”

“Forgive you for what?” she asks, her tone hesitant.

I look into her stunning blue eyes, feeling more lost than ever before. Each time my demons come out to play, I’m tempted to let them drag me to hell. That’s what a life without her would be — pure hell.

I’m at an impasse. My guilt is eating me alive, but part of me wants to put my faith in my wife. Perhaps my mother is right, but what if she isn’t? What if Faye could love me despite everything?

“I’m the reason my parents and your mother are dead.”

She freezes, her eyes widening a fraction. “Dion, they died in a plane crash,” she says carefully.

I swallow hard and nod. “I know.” Years of therapy have made it much easier to cope, to be rational about it, but I still firmly believe I’m at least partially to blame. “They wouldn’t have been on that plane if not for me, Faye. They’d gone to London because they’d been in the process of expanding the Staccato Foundation, and their negotiations hadn’t gone as smoothly as they expected.” I draw a shaky breath and lean back against the headrest, my wife still securely in my lap. “I… I had a concert. It was my first big solo concert, and I begged my parents and your mom to come back for it. I told them I’d never forgive them if I had to walk onto that stage without them, and I accused them of caring more about the kids at the foundation than about me. We had a terrible fight that racked up a huge telephone bill. Your mom tried to appease me, but I wouldn’t listen. She promised me she’d be at my next few performances, you know? Told me she wouldn’t miss them for the world, that she’d bring you too, and that you’d cheer me on together. The last thing I told her was that I hated her and my parents.”

She cups my face, forcing me to look at her. “Dion, you were . Of course you wanted your parents with you for something so terrifying.”

I wrap my hands around her waist and hold her tightly, my throat burning. “They flew back early to attend my concert, Faye. You lost your mother because of . Do you see how different your life would’ve been if she’d been there? It’s not just her you lost. I took away the childhood that rightfully should’ve been yours. I know that, and despite that, I still want more. I’ve taken so much from you, yet I still want your heart too.”

I inhale shakily and tear my gaze away, unable to face her. “Dion,” she whispers. “You’ve got it. My heart is yours.

yours.”

I look back at her, disbelief rendering me speechless. The way she looks at me… it hasn’t changed.

“Do you hear yourself, Dion? You were a child. You aren’t to blame for what happened to my mother and your parents.

don’t blame you. I understand the circumstances fueled your guilt, but my love, you didn’t cause that plane to crash. You, Dion Windsor, are powerful beyond measure — but you’re not that powerful. You didn’t do this.”

She pulls me closer, her legs wrapping around me as she clings to me. Something unfurls in my chest, relief hitting me hard as I hug her back, my face buried in her neck.

“How long have you been carrying that guilt?” she asks, her voice breaking. “Is this why you were running away from me for so long?”

I bury a hand in her hair, my breathing shallow. “I was in therapy for years, Faye. Rationally, I know I didn’t… I didn’t kill them. But a small part of me continues to believe it, and I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t the reason I couldn’t face you. Logically, I understand I didn’t cause their accident, but if not for me, they wouldn’t have been on that plane.”

“Is that what your dreams are about?” She moves back to look at me when I don’t answer. “Dion, this isn’t the first night that one of your nightmares woke me up. I’ve never said anything because it seemed deeply personal, and you’ve always fallen back asleep soon after, but it hasn’t gone unnoticed. What do you dream of?”

I look into her eyes, hesitation making my words falter. “My mother,” I say eventually, laying my cards on the table. “I dream of her telling me I’m a monster and that I killed her. It’s the reason I can’t let go. Each time I try, she appears, reminding me that I don’t deserve to escape the guilt.”

Faye’s eyes fill with tears, and she shakes her head. “You do,” she urges. “You deserve to be free of guilt, and you deserve to be happy, Dion.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I’ve done. I hear you, baby. I was a child when my parents died, but everything since then? My hands aren’t clean, and no matter what I do, I can’t erase the stains on them.”

She smiles at me then, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “My darling husband,” she murmurs, and my heart skips a beat. “You’re a Windsor. Name one powerful man with a clear conscience, one man who won’t break the law and his own morals to protect his own.”

I fall silent, and she shakes her head. “When I married you, I thought you a monster, Dion. I thought you were just like my father, that you’d hurt me until I was completely broken and molded into what you wanted me to be. I couldn’t have been more wrong. You built me up, supported me unconditionally, and you’ve protected me in a way I never would’ve expected of you. If you tore anything down at all, it’s the walls I built. I love you, Dion. All of you, even the parts you think are unworthy. Will you let me? Will you let me love you, Dion?”

I swallow down the lump in my throat and reach for her, my lips brushing against her cautiously, almost as though a part of me still isn’t sure of what I heard. Her hands wrap into my hair, and she smiles against my lips before kissing me back.

She me.

.

After everything I just told her, she still loves me.

I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve the woman in my arms, but there’s nothing I won’t do to make her stay.