Of Secrets and Illusions

Cinderella “Cindy” York wrinkled her slightly upturned nose in distaste. Irritation simmered just beneath her skin at her high school dean who sat opposite her.

Mr. Bennett released a frustrated sigh. His forehead wrinkled as he rubbed his temple. His lips were pulled tight. “Ms. York, you have driven away every single partner you have been assigned to for this project. May I remind you that failure to complete this means you do not get to graduate.”

Cindy’s full pink-colored lips curled into a pout. “But, sir –”

“It’s not as if the school is asking you for a lifetime commitment – just a day or two without any unlikely incident,” Mr. Bennett continued as he interrupted her. “Mr. Rivers was your last chance.”

Admiration briefly flashed through Cindy’s eyes before she rolled her eyes in disgust. “Mr. Rivers?” She faked a gag. “You mean the scruffy idiot? He was my last chance?” She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Mr. Bennett, I thought you could better than that.”

Mr. Bennett inhaled slowly, the rising level of frustration he felt evident in the way his body tensed. “Well, Ms. York, Mr. Rivers was your last chance. Since he left, there is now no way for you to graduate with the rest of your batch – at least on time. You will be subjected to summer school and until your professors have found your charity work satisfactory, you will not be able to get your degree.” The dean sighed. “Your grades are exemplary, Ms. York, even if you do not attend class. Attendance is actually grounds for dropping a subject. This charity work will serve as a make-up grade for your attendance.”

“What?” Cindy jumped up in outrage. “Summer school indefinitely? What about my planned tour of Europe? Or my scheduled Bahamas vacation? Or the numerous business meetings my PA has already scheduled? Do you know what a hassle it is to reschedule? Rescheduling means losing possible clients.

“My family pays millions to various charities and non-government organizations. Surely, that is enough! Why would I want to object myself to shanty visits and cleaning houses a demolition team would have more success with?”

“Sit down, Ms. York,” the dean finally snapped, pinning her with a hard look.

Cindy collapsed back on the chair, her hands clenched into fists with her perfectly manicured nails digging in to her palm.

“I understand shopping trips, spa appointments, and business meetings are more important to you than helping the underprivileged, but —” he pulled a manila envelope from his desk drawer and handed it to her “—perhaps, this will be more incentive.”

Grudgingly, Cindy reached for the envelope. Still glaring at the dean, she pulled out a piece of paper – an agreement. Dread filled pit of her stomach as she quickly scanned through the contents.

“As you can see,” Mr. Bennett began, “your father has an agreement with me. Your credit card privileges and your car have been revoked indefinitely. The driver will also not be at your disposal. The only amount of money you shall be receiving is an allowance equal to that of an average student – minimum wage – and you will be living in the dorms, as well.”

“What about my job at the company?”

“Your father has given you indefinite leave, but you do have to pass that business proposal he’s asking for.”

Cindy swallowed, the consequences of her actions finally dawning on her, but her pride made her bite her tongue.

Mr. Bennett raised an eyebrow. “What, no objections?”

Cindy remained quiet, merely throwing daggers with her eyes.

“The next student – no matter who it is – who enters the door will be your partner for the duration of the project and nothing will change that.”

A knock sounded at the door preventing Cindy from protesting.

“Come in,” Mr. Bennett called, sending a warning glance at her.

The school secretary peaked her head in. She glanced briefly at Cindy before turning to Mr. Bennett. “Adam is here to discuss his –"

“Yes, yes, yes,” Mr. Bennett interrupted with a smile. “Send him in.”

The secretary nodded.

Mr. Bennett grinned at Cindy. “Seems like you’ll be meeting your new partner today.”

Cindy glared at him, her lips parting to throw out another sharp retort when the door was thrown open and an ill-dressed nerd came in.

The nerd seemed to be completely focused on the dean that he did not notice her seated right across him. The nerd dropped down on the seat beside hers still seemingly oblivious to her presence. He went on babbling some nonsense about charity work, orphanages, and the less privileged. Instead of listening to her, Cindy studied him instead.

He was clean shaven. Thick-rimmed glasses framed his eyes. His clothes were not exactly ill-fitting more of uncoordinated. It was the most typical nerd outfit ever with a plaid shirt covered with a brown fest. His jeans that barely reached his ankles were overlapped with checkered socks and blue sneakers.

“Adam,” Mr. Bennett interrupted.

The nerd paused. “Yes, Mr. Bennett?”

The dean gestured at Cindy.

The nerd blushed, red rushing his high cheekbones. “Uhh…”

Cindy arched her brow in a condescending manner.

The nerd stuttered more.

Taking pity on the boy, the dean cleared his throat turning both students’ attendance to him. Both students turned to him – both with emotions on opposite ends of the spectrum.

“Adam, meet Ms. York,” Mr. Bennett began, “she will be your partner for the duration of your project.” He raised a hand up, silencing any protest. “In order for both of you to stay out of summer school, you both have to execute Adam’s proposal perfectly.”

Rage filled Cindy’s eyes. “Knowing a nerd’s desire for perfection, that will take forever. I do not have all week. I cannot stay out in the sun with the risk of getting an uneven tan, especially with graduation ball in two weeks!”

Mr. Bennett inhaled. “May I remind you, Ms. York, that the moment you complete this, you get control of your funds back.”

“How long is this supposed to take?”

“Uhh... a week of knowing the demographic of the children we are targeting to house, another three weeks of looking for sponsors, and then execution,” the nerd stuttered.

“Too long,” Mr. Bennett declared. “I’m giving you a week.”

The nerd spluttered. “Sir, th-that’s too short…I—”

Mr. Bennett waved a hand. “Fine – two weeks.”

The nerd opened his mouth to protest but a hard look from Mr. Bennett silenced him.

“Yes, sir,” the nerd muttered instead.

Mr. Bennett turned to Cindy. “You may take your leave. Head straight to the dorms, Ms. Rachel will show you your room.”

With one last grudging look, Cindy left the office shutting the door with a bang.

*****

“Well, that was certainly unexpected,” Adam muttered a few seconds later.

Mr. Bennett chuckled. “She is a piece of work, isn’t she?”

Adam pulled the thick glasses off his face revealing his forest green eyes framed by thick lashes. “I believe she is a product of severe entitlement.”

“And you aren’t?” Mr. Bennett questioned.

Adam’s eyes hardened, his body tensed, hands clenching into fists. “You know I’m not.”

The dean nodded. “Given your background, perhaps you’re not.” He paused, choosing instead to chance the subject. “You played your role perfectly.”

Adam nodded. “I still wonder why you think this will work and how you got her parents’ approval for such a scheme.”

“You know this project will only take three days,” the dean said instead.

The young man rolled his eyes. “You want us to establish an orphanage – or at least a half-way home for abused kids. That usually takes years in the making.”

“With your contacts and hers, it will take little time,” the dean insisted. “Besides, the papers are already all set. Your mother has been planning this for years. You are merely the executor. All you have left to do is meet the social worker, meet the kids – play with them a little – and hold a fund-raising event.”

Adam smiled sadly. “It will be good to give back to society.”

Mr. Bennett nodded. “And perhaps in showing her the other side of the tracks will open her eyes to the rest of the world.”

“We can only hope,” Adam acknowledged, his mind wandering back to the spoiled princess who had just left the room.

*****

Tuesday dawned bright and humid. It was the activity at five in the morning that woke Cindy up with a groan. Though the sun had yet to rise, her dorm room was lit up like it was noon. Cindy groaned, hand blindly reaching out for her phone.

Gripping the gadget, she checked the time. 5:12AM. She grabbed a second pillow, burrowing her head in it.

This had to be some kind of joke, she thought. School started at eight. Why was her roommate up before the sun?

“Cindy?” her roommate – Abigail, if she remembered correctly – called out to her. “Mr. Bennett said that you have to be ready by six. Adam will pick you up to take you to the site.”

Cindy ignored her and pulled the covers over her head instead. That seemed to have done the trick because she was greeted with silence. Smiling to herself, she made herself comfortable on the bed closing her eyes willing herself back to the land of dreams.

But her sleep was short-lived when a bucket of ice cold water soaked through her sheets making her jump out of bed a spluttering mess.

Abigail stood to the side holding a blue bucket with a sheepish expression on her face as she shrugged. “Mr. Bennet’s orders.”

Grudgingly, Cindy grabbed her towel. With a glare at her roommate, she slipped to the bathroom.

*****

Cindy sat across him in the kitchen of his small apartment the following day. Glancing around the apartment, disbelief filled her. The entire place was almost as big as her room. The furniture of the place was old and ratty. It had probably been passable in its prime, but now? It was probably fit for the dump.

The low murmur of the television filled the entire apartment.

She turned her attention back to the nerd.

Since their meeting with the social worker, he had barely spoken to her. As soon as they arrived at his apartment, he sat down at the kitchen table, barely acknowledging her, laid the folders given to them, and began reading as if she didn’t even exist.

She inclined her head, drumming her fingers on the table, and studied him. His forehead was scrunched, his forest green eyes staring intently at the file he was reading through his thick glasses. His hand gripped the file tightly, knuckles white. If he held it any tighter –

“Hold that folder any more tighter and it will be bound to tear,” she told him.

He looked up, surprise lighting up his features. “What?”

She gestured lazily at the folder.

His grip slackened.

“What am I supposed to be doing here anyway?” she asked. “We’ve been here for the past –” she glanced at her watch “—two hours and all you’ve done was read those files.”

He gazed at her intently.

She rolled her eyes. “Listen, nerd –”

“Adam,” he interrupted.

“Fine,” she acquiesced. “Adam, just because people think and I often act like a spoiled, illiterate princess living off her trust fund, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to pull my own weight.”

The nerd blanched, stuttering his protest.

She shook her head at him. “Now, are you going to tell me what to do or do I have to spend the rest of my night staring at you? I mean, you’re cute and everything, but I’d rather be doing something productive. If we’re done here, I still need to finish a business report and send it in to my PA for the board meeting tomorrow which I will not be attending because of this ridiculous project.”

The nerd blinked, a blush rising up his cheeks, staining them red.

She raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

He swallowed and gestured to the stack of folders on the table between them. “You read my proposal, right?”

She nodded.

“Well, the orphanage was only approved to take a total of twenty kids – ten girls and ten boys – all ten and under. The files the social worker gave us are the potential candidates for the home. Our job is to segregate them and choose those who need to be at the home more.”

She nodded. “That seems easy enough.”

*****

Adam watched the young woman before him with barely hidden interest. Truth of the matter was, he spent the past two hours studying her, wondering about her, trying to see what made her tick. A part of him was trying to see the girl who humiliated him a few months back all over a dress that would probably feed five families for over a month.

He watched as she held the file in her hands delicately – primly. Watching the play of emotions on her face as she read through the file was fascinating. He knew, some of those files reflected him, or at least it reflected his childhood before the Rivers took him in.

She bit her bottom lip, nibbling on it. Her eyes glazed over with tears. Gone was the spoiled persona, it its place was a young woman filled with compassion – a woman whose eyes had just been opened to the reality of the other side of the tracks: broken, abused, poor, and dirty.

He glanced back down at the file at hand where the face of a four-year-old boy stared back at him – bloody, black-and-blue, hollowed cheeks, and empty eyes. He closed his eyes. Once upon a time, that boy had been him.

Contrary to what the woman in front of him thought, Adam Rivers was not a born with a silver-spoon. No, he was born in a world where only the strongest survived.

*****

Sleep eluded Cindy that night. Instead, she was plagued by pictures of the children from the files she read that afternoon – eyes empty, bodies painted black, red, and blue, bones nearly sticking out of their skin. The words echo in her mind like replay as if it was said directly to her: starved, beaten, burned, cut.

When dawn came, she gave up any hope for sleep. Quickly changing into some shorts and a jersey, she grabbed her phone and keys and headed out for a run.

*****

He found her at the park just a few blocks away from the college dorm staring out in the distance. He kept his distance for a moment and just observed her. The sun light highlighted her features – the delicate curve of her neck, the smooth line of her jaw, the delicate arch of her cheekbones.

Watching her lost in her thoughts seemingly oblivious to the people around made him forget the role he was meant to play. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself together and approached her.

He took a seat beside her on the bench, a safe distance away. Keeping up the pretence of a stuttering, blundering nerd, he stuttered his greeting.

She turned to him, scrutinizing him under her intense hazel eyes. “How do you do it? How were you able to choose so easily yesterday? How can you look through those files and not want to gag, cry, and hurt someone at the same time?”

He looked away, considering how to answer her question in such a way that he wouldn’t expose who he truly was. Without looking at her, he said, “I was like them once.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Seeing it – seeing them – doesn’t bring back the memories?”

He met her gaze, contemplating if he was supposed to answer her question honestly, or if he would lie. No one – not even his adoptive parents – had asked him that. He chose to answer her honestly. Yes.

She nodded, her look taking her somewhere far away – somewhere he couldn’t follow. A few moments later, she returned to him. “It was easier when I could just write off a check even when I knew what they were going through – just faceless people in need. It made their suffering less…”

“Real?” he asked.

She nodded. “It made it less real.” She pursed her lips. “Now, reading those files, seeing those pictures, it made me realize they are more than just faceless people who help us lessen the taxes we pay. I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Like pieces in a puzzle, an idea formed in his mind. He held out a hand to her, shrugging off the façade for a moment. “Do you trust me?”

She studied him for a while, watching him, trying to see if he had a motive.

He waited, seeing the indecision in her gaze. Just as he was about to give up, she slipped her hand into his.

*****

• She found herself sitting around a four-person kitchen table of pleasant home. The aroma of freshly baked cookies filled her nose as it was set before her. Without waiting for any encouragement, Adam grabbed one and stuffed it in his mouth.

Rachel Victoria, the social worker, they came to visit chuckled, fondness alight in her blue eyes. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you, Adam?”

He shook his head, stuffing another cookie in his mouth. “Why would I?”

Cindy watched their exchange surprised at their familiarity.

“She was the social worker assigned to my case,” Adam stated, answering her unasked question about the plump, middle-aged woman who had welcomed them into her home uninvited at nine in the morning.

Cindy nibbled at a cookie. “What are we doing here really?”

Before he could answer, a small form appeared at the kitchen entrance. The boy was no more than five, but his eyes looked so much older. There was almost no spark in them – they were empty. His arms and legs were littered with a variety of cuts, burns, and welts. His face was no different either.

Cindy sucked in a breath as she recognized the child. It was one of them – the kids in the files she read the day before.

The child took a step back, warily eyeing the two strangers.

Cindy felt not only Adam’s eyes on him, but also that of Ms. Rachel’s. They were watching her – testing her, seeing how she would react.

She smiled softly at the boy. “Hi.”

The little one took a tentative step forward.

She offered a cookie.

He moved took two steps forward, taking the cookie form her outstretched palm.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

He gave her a tentative smile.

*****

They found themselves back at the park by dusk.

“I was like him,” he said suddenly.

Him – Jeremy. The little boy in Ms. Rachel’s kitchen.

She waited for him to continue.

“Never knew who my biological father was. My mother was either high or drunk. There was a rotation of men in our house. They were all jerks. Never knew how to talk only how to use their fists on those weaker than them.” He paused, seemingly lost in the memories.

On instinct, she slipped her hand in his and squeezed. A sign of comfort. Of friendship.

“I was older than him when they finally got me out. I didn’t trust anyone. Kept to myself, until one day this couple just adopted me out the blue. No questions asked. Didn’t matter to them if I talked or not. They were patient with me, and in time, I learned how to trust them.” He turned to her, tightening his grip on her hands. A fierceness in his eyes. “I want that for them – those kids like me – a safe place to grow up in, one without fear, just love and belongingness.”

She looked away from him and laid her head on his shoulder. “We’ll get that for them.”

*****

Something changed between them that day. Suddenly, there was this sense of companionship between them. They became two halves of a whole so quickly. Without a word needed, they knew each other’s thoughts. It was an undeniably unique connection that neither one could explain, but didn’t question.

As the two weeks drew its close, she was awakened by a sudden revelation: she had fallen for him.

Her father would kill her for putting a damper on his plans of an arranged marriage for her with the Rivers’ son, but she could not deny the fact that she had fallen in love with the nerd. It was definitely not the way he looked that made her fall, but rather his heart and gentle spirit. Her parents would just have to accept it.

*****

She spent the day before their graduation ball at the orphanage, waiting for him to arrive. She hadn’t seen them since the charity ball they held to complete the funds for the orphanage. But he never came.

Saturday passed slowly for Cindy. The spa appointment that was meant to relax her only agitated her. For some reason, a feeling of dread fell over her as the day progressed.

As she slipped her gown on, she sighed. The reflection that stared back at her was so different from the girl she once was. As cliché as it sounds, there was something different in her eyes. She was happier – lighter somehow.

A knock on their door startled her, but she ignored it, assuming it was for her roommate.

The door shut a few moments later.

“Cindy?” Abigail’s voice was muffled through the bathroom door.

She opened the door. “Yes?”

Her roommate smiled slyly. “Your date is at the door.”

“Date?” she asked surprised. “I don’t have a date.”

Abigail smirked. “Better tell him that then.”

Without a backward glance at her roommate, she opened the door.

Adam.

*****

Adam’s breath caught in his throat the moment he saw her in that dress. The dress was modest in every sense, but there was something about seeing her in it that made his pulse quicken.

She smiled demurely at him. “Hi.”

He grinned at her like a love struck fool, loving the way that she blushed, but wondering at the same time if she would still look at him the same way after tonight. “You look beautiful.”

She met his gaze. “Thank you.”

He took her hand in his and held up the corsage he picked up – a lilac colored rose. It complemented her dress perfectly, too, he realized. “I know I wasn’t able to ask you officially, but I would be honoured if you would let me escort you the ball tonight.”

She simply nodded and that was all the confirmation he needed to slip the corsage onto her wrist confidently and with practiced ease.

Adam offered her an arm. “Shall we, my lady?”

She slipped her arm through his. “We shall.”

*****

Cindy pushed back the feeling of déjà vu as she stared at Adam in his suit. There was this sense of familiarity about the way he moved. Gone was the clumsy nerd she had fallen in love with and in his place was this confident Prince Charming with slicked back hair.

His glasses were missing, and from what she could see he wasn’t even wearing any contacts. If she remembered correctly, he once told her that he couldn’t see without his glasses. So, where was it now?

Foreboding rushed through her veins making her tense. Instead of excitement for the night ahead, she felt scared – as if something she wouldn’t like would be happening.

His grip on her hands tightened.

She looked up at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She studied him instead. She watched the way his eyes flickered over her nervously, the way a silent apology seemed to lurk within its depths, and suddenly, she had the urge to turn back – to feign sickness. She swallowed, pushing her misgivings to the back of her mind.

“Yeah,” she choked out. “I’m good.”

He smiled, relief shining through his forest green eyes. “That’s good.” He paused as they reached the threshold of the door. “Are you ready?”

She nodded once, palms turning clammy.

With a smile at her, he pushed the doors open and led her inside.

*****

Whispers rippled across the room the moment they appeared at the top of the grand staircase. Cindy held her head up high, her grip on his arm tightening as she used him to steady herself.

“Smile, darling,” he whispered.

With practiced ease, she summoned up a smile. Her heart lurched to her throat the moment they reached the bottom of the stairs. She swallowed hard. Her father stood on the bottom of the stage, confidence oozed off him. He looked every bit the powerful CEO-slash-lawyer he was, beside him stood Mr. Rivers, Ms. Rachel, and Mr. Bennett.

Seemingly oblivious to her discomfort, he led her to the front, stopping directly at the stairs to the stage.

“What is happening, Adam?” she whispered, eyes flying from her father to the boy who held her hand.

He gazed down at her, his eyes hard. That was when realization dawned on her and her mind flashed back to the first time she met him a couple of months ago. It was that same night that her father had told her of his plans for her upcoming nuptials to the heir of Rivers Inc., the same heir who ruined her designed gown with a glass wine.

She tugged herself harshly out of his hold, stumbling back slightly, and the whispers around her becoming clearer and clearer.

Isn’t that Adam Matthew Rivers, the guy she humiliated at the last charity function? One whispered.

Yeah, I heard he ruined her one-of-a-kind designer gown.

She retaliated hard.

Weren’t they supposed to be engaged?

An arrange-marriage. For a business merger.

She swallowed hard, betrayal clear in her eyes.

Adam reached for her. “It isn’t what you think.”

“Don’t,” she choked. “Just don’t.”

“Cindy,” he pleaded, voice cracking.

She shook her head. “Tell my Dad to hold up whatever end of the bargain he’s made with your father.” She glared at him, through the tears forming in her eyes. “Just leave me out of it and never talk to me again.”

Without waiting for him to reply, she turned to leave. She was half-way across the room when a hand clamped hard on her arm, tugging her hard, causing her to stumble and fall back into his arms.

“Cindy, don’t do this,” he whispered.

The music paused. The whispers stopped. All that remained was them.

“Do not talk to me again,” she whispered.

He held her tighter against him, his breathing hard. “I love you.”

She shook her head. “I thought I did, too.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “But I was wrong. I fell in love with an illusion, a mirage, a dream that never truly existed.”

When she wrenched herself out of his grip this time he let her go.

*****

Cindy smiled at the little boy before her. She bent down to the little boy’s level, taking the flower from him. “Thank you, Jeremy.”

The little boy blushed and sneaked a kiss on her cheek before running off to the rest of his friends playing along the yard. With a genuine smile on her lips, Cindy leaned against the porch railing. She watched as the kids played in their little clusters of groups.

These were the children that helped her push through the pain of the past six months. She was eternally grateful to them. She didn’t know what it was about these kids that called to her. Perhaps, it was their easy laughter, or it was the fact that they were survivors, or maybe it was the way they reminded her of him. Whatever it was, it was these kids that helped her realize that the pain she was going through was so small to what they had endured in their short lives.

“Fancy meeting you here,” a familiar voice whispered in her ear.

Cindy froze, the smile falling off her face. She turned to move away, but his arms trapped her in place. She closed her eyes, summoning the courage to look up at him instead.

“Hi, Cindy,” he whispered.

She swallowed and looked up at him. The first thing she noticed was that he was no longer in his nerd outfit. His usually neat hair fell across his forehead, nearly covering his eyes. As she gazed into his eyes, she found an intensity in them that she had never seen before.

“Let me go, Adam,” she muttered. “If that is even your name.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “You know it is, princess.”

“Really? I thought it was Matthew Rivers, the manipulative jerk,” she shot back.

He groaned. “Cindy, you’re acting like a kid again.”

She glared at him – the personification of the statement “if looks could kill”. “And you haven’t? Going on parading to be something – someone – you’re not?”

He sighed.

She pushed him back and he let her. Ignoring his presence, she called out a goodbye to the kids and headed out the door. His heavy footsteps followed her out to her car.

“Cindy, please, can’t we talk about this?”

“I don’t think I can trust anything that comes out of your mouth,” she retorted.

He flinched, before closing his eyes. “Then just listen, okay?”

“I have a board meeting to attend,” Cindy stated instead.

“Five minutes,” he pleaded.

“Tick tock,” she said finally.

He swallowed. His mouth opened and closed a few times but no words would come out.

“Well?” she prompted.

When he still didn’t reply, she shrugged, unlocked her car, and pulled the door open. “Bye.”

“I love you,” he blurted out suddenly.

Her hand froze.

“I – When I found out what my dad had planned at first, I was against it – the arranged marriage, I mean. Then I met you and spilled wine all over your dress –” he paused “—you were so mad at me. But I didn’t care. I found myself mad and attracted to you at the same time. I hated myself for it. Then suddenly our fathers cooked up this crazy scheme of making us work together and I knew I would be an idiot not to take it.

“Then suddenly, I got to know you – the real you – and I found myself telling you things I never thought I would ever tell other people.” She turned to face him, shutting the car door. “Slowly, I fell for you and I felt guilty for it. I felt guilty because I knew I was lying to your face. I knew that if you found out the truth, you would hate me for it, and a part of me accepted that.” He paused, swallowed, and looked straight into her eyes. “But a part of me held on to the hope that you would love me even after everything.”

Cindy remained silent, contemplating. She told him once that he was an open book and as she looked into his eyes, she knew she was right. Every singled emotion was plastered on his face, reflected in his eyes, found in the way he held himself, and woven into his very being.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

He took a few steps toward her, taking her hand in his, and placing it over his beating. “This heart, as corny as it sounds, beats for you. It belongs to you. You hold it in the very palm of your hand. I know that if you say ‘no’ now, I will not stop pursuing you until the day I day because I know that I will never love anyone else.”

Cindy closed her eyes. “Trust, once broken, is hard to repair.”

“I know,” he whispered. “And I will spend the rest of our lives doing my best to undo that damage, if you will let me.”

She raised her free hand, tracing the outline of his jaw, before settling it there. “I’m willing to try, because as much as I want to hate you, I love you more.”

He grinned at her, leaning his forehead against hers. “This will be the beginning of our forever then?”

She smiled back. “Only if we fight for it – no secrets, no more masks, no more illusions.”

“No secrets, no more masks, no more illusions,” he repeated. “Just us.”

“Just us.”