“Then you can forgive me.” He says it like a point of fact rather than a question. It certainly isn’t an apology. “If you see my true intentions, you’ll be able to forgive me for what I did to save you. Now, we can both move forward together.”
Maybe if Sergey had genuinely apologized, there is the smallest chance that I could try to forgive him.
But he isn’t sorry. He is never sorry. I know, for a fact, that all it would take is the tiniest threat to his control and he would kill me.
He’d kill Piper. Our child. He’d kill Benjamin, too.
The loss of Benjamin is a knife in my side. One I can’t forget or remove. It’s a constant, aching loss I will have to learn to live with.
It’s a loss I will use to fuel my desire to never lose someone so precious to me again.
That crusade starts with m
