Taming the Storm (Page 77)

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Taming the Storm (The Storm #3)(77)
Author: Samantha Towle

“But that didn’t stop you from screwing him—” I cut off, knowing this isn’t the time. My breath is coming in heavy. I can feel myself starting to panic.

My fingers slip from the bed frame. I’m ready to leave, and Dex knows it.

“Ly, don’t go, please.”

The panic in his eyes and voice makes me stay. I hold on to the metal frame again, needing it for balance.

“I wish I could give you a reason why I did what I did,” he says in a low voice. “The only one I have is…I was weak. Chad pursued me, and I couldn’t seem to say no. Every time it happened, I would tell myself that time was the last, and I wasn’t going to let it happen again. Then, I would find myself right back in that same situation with him.” His eyes meet mine. “I was in love with him…or I thought I was. I want you to know that I didn’t have an affair with him as some sort of challenge.” He lets out a defeated sigh. “Whatever it was I felt for Chad though…in the end, it didn’t matter.”

“Why did you move to LA?”

“To be closer to you. I thought if I was closer to you, I might stand a chance at repairing what I’d done. I couldn’t do that when you were on the other side of the country. Then, I got here and found out that you were going on tour for six weeks. I have the worst timing ever.” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “But I stayed, knowing you’d be back. I thought if I could just get to see you, talk to you, then it’d be okay…we’d be okay. I just needed to get you to listen to me. If that happened, then, I thought everything would be okay.

“Then, I finally got my chance in San Diego, and after what happened that night…it truly hit me that I’d lost you for good. There was no going back. In that moment, it was worse than thinking you were dead. You were still living your life, but I just couldn’t be a part of it, and it was my own doing. The best part of my life was us. You and me. And Cale and Sonny. The band.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I guess…things just spiraled after that night. The depression got worse. I wasn’t turning up for practice. I was drinking more, getting high. The guys in my band were getting pissed off with me. Then, I missed an important gig because I’d was out partying, and the next day they pulled me in and told me I was out.

“So, I didn’t have you, and then I had no band. I just felt lost…angry at myself, and I wanted to stop hurting. I took some of my pills, knowing they’d dull the pain. I washed them down with vodka. I guess I took too many.”

Anger bursts inside me like an erupting volcano.

“You took too many? Are you fucking kidding me right now? You could have died. If your roommate hadn’t found you, I’d be standing over your dead body right now!” My chest is pounding, head hurting. “How the hell do you think your mom and dad would feel if they lost you? If you’d died exactly the same way my mom had, how do you think your mom would feel from losing her son the same way she had her sister? How the hell do you think I would feel?” I beat my fist against my chest.

Sad eyes meet mine. “Relieved…I thought you would feel relieved, Ly.”

His words me like a wrecking ball.

“Screw you!” I yell at him. I head for the door, my body shaking hard with every emotion I’m feeling right now.

“Lyla, wait!” he cries.

I spin on the spot. My hands are clenched into fists at my sides. I feel like I could punch a hole through the wall.

He’s sitting up in bed, his face anxious. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just thought your life would be easier without me around.”

My nails dig into my palms. “I would rather have a hard life than you be dead. Don’t you get that? I might be angry and hurt, but you’re still my family. My flesh and blood. I don’t get to stop loving you, Dex, just because you hurt me.”

His head lowers. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking when I took those pills. I just wanted to stop feeling. And I know you have every right to be angry with me, but please, not right now.” He slumps back, rubbing at his eyes. “Not right now.”

I take a few deep breaths. “I shouldn’t have yelled.” I move back to the bed. Grabbing the chair near the bed, I sit in it. “We can’t keep doing this,” I say quietly, “hurting each other like this.”

His eyes lift to mine. “I know.”

I blow out a breath, flexing my hands on my thighs. “You did an unforgiveable thing. You hurt me badly. Worse than Rally ever did.” My lip quivers. “All the shit with him, I expected. I expected Rally to let me down. But not you. You were the one person I trusted above everyone, and you betrayed me.”

“God, I’m so sorry.” His voice breaks on a sob. He wraps his arm over his stomach like he’s in pain. “If I could take it back, I would. I’d give anything to go back and do it differently. I wouldn’t go near Chad. I would tell you upfront how I was feeling about him before anything could happen. I wouldn’t do what I did.” Tears are streaming down his face.

“The betrayal wrecked me so badly—not because it was Chad—but, because it was you. You were my fucking hero, Dex. I adored you. I never thought you would hurt me like that.”

“Neither did I,” he says sadly. Using the sleeve of the hospital gown he’s wearing, he wipes his tears from his face.

He lowers his hand to the bed, and tentatively, he reaches for mine. I let him take it.

“Ly, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness or to have you back in my life…but will you to consider trying…”

My eyes lift to his and I see them shining with fresh tears. I let out a breath. “When I got that call from your mom, for a split second…I feared the worst.” I rub my eye with the heel of my hand. “It made me realize that no matter how mad or hurt or betrayed I feel by you…nothing would be worse than not having you here, alive and well. I knew if you were gone, and we hadn’t fixed the broken between us, then, regret would eat me alive. I’m not saying we can go back to how we were because we can’t. But I’m saying, I’ll try and work toward something…forgiveness. But you need to promise me that you’ll go to counseling, and get real help.”

A soft smile touches his lips. “I will. I promise.” He squeezes my hand.

“You get help, and then you and I can start talking…with someone’s assistance. Knowing you and me, I think we’re gonna need a mediator in this.” My lips lift at the corner, attempting a smile.

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