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I wasn't scared of anything but stupid fucking feelings-love fucking terrified me.
When she asked me if I loved her, said the words out loud; fuck, that was scarier than having a ticking bomb attached to your chest.
I stood in front of her like a fucking idiot. I had never been speechless before anyone, I always get the last word but Evangeline has managed to do that as well.
I grabbed my fifth glass of whiskey and downed it. I couldn't say it, I don't fucking know what I feel for her. I wanted her, I liked being around her, sleeping in the same bed as hers, I liked having her in my life but love was out of the question.
I told her, I fucking told her that I won't love her. She fucking said she had no problem with it. She said she was fine with me not loving her. She fucking said that she won't ask me to love her. Didn't she?
I picked up the bottle of whiskey and tossed it on the wall, placing my hands over the desk, I hung my head, "Fuck!"
When I first met her-the day her father had died, I'd never imagined that the girl I'm taking home would end up being my fucking wife. Evangeline had looked like a nobody to me, I don't know why I decided to keep her, I have no fucking idea how I let all this get this far.
She must be fucking crying. She must be thinking that I am the biggest asshole on planet earth. Fuck! I can't stand her when she cries, her tears get on my nerves. If it was anyone else that had made her cry I wouldn't hesitate to fucking put a bullet in their skull but it was fucking about love.
I shouldn't care, I shouldn't fucking care, except I do care. I care so much about her that I can't even see my way around her.
Why the fuck would she ask for something I couldn't give her? Something I might not ever be able to give. It was a weakness in my dictionary. I would give her anything else; sex, money, diamonds, a good life, whatever she wants but that.
But I do like her in a lot of ways...
I like her body, I like fucking her, I like talking to her, I like her foolishness and the words that flew out of her fucking beautiful mouth. I liked how she watched me kill a man and she wasn't scared of me in the least, I liked how can I be Nikolai around her, I don't fucking have to be Don Niko or the head of the family. I like how she looks at me sometimes like she'd fucking explode with happiness, even when I'm covered in blood. I liked not coming home to an empty house, I liked how she waits for me to get home.
I liked all those things, I didn't love them.
Like and love has different fucking meanings.
Liking all of it meant I could live without them but loving them meant she was my weakness-which she isn't. So, I liked Evangeline, but I didn't fucking love her.
I made my way out of the study and went up the stairs, standing outside of our bedroom. I sighed as I pushed the door open and found her curled up on the bed. Her back was shaking and I could hear how hard she had been trying to muffle her whimpers.
