“What?” Her expression turns irritated and her tone weary.

She thinks I don’t understand what she wants from me. But I do. She doesn’t want me to flaunt my money or give her ridiculously expensive gifts.

It’s me who’s misunderstood. I’m not trying to buy her love. I simply want to know that she’s taken care of. And I want her in our home.

As best as I can, I try to make her understand. “I can’t live here without you, precious. But I don’t want to sell it, because I love being here with you. Someday, you and I will be here again. While I’m waiting for you—scratch that—while I’m groveling for your forgiveness, it’s a shame to let it sit empty. You and Liesl should move in.”

“I can’t accept that, H.” But she seems less angry now.

“I had a feeling you’d say that. Then it will have to sit.” I’d known she wouldn’t accept. I still had to offer.

She bites her lip as if working out a problem in her head—God, how I want to suck on that lip—then she suggests, “You could rent it out.”

“I could rent it out to you.”

Alayna laughs, and every dark cloud in the sky scatters. I’ll do anything to keep that smile on her face. Anything to keep the flirting and the warmth that passes between us. We tease like this, back and forth, her smile remaining, her eyes gleaming. The day is already worth it just because I got to see the sun in Alayna’s face.

She asks me again, “Seriously, though, where’s all your stuff? Did you get another place?”

I shake my head. “I gave it all to a charity fundraiser.” This is true. For the most part. Minus the pieces I destroyed.

“Lifestyles of the rich and famous,” she teases.

As much as we’re both enjoying the playfulness—it’s obvious she is as much as I am—there are still mountains between us. There are still things to say and explain. We have wounds that need dressing and scars that haven’t finished forming.

I start toward her, tightening the gap that feels like a cavern between us. “I wasn’t attached to any of it. This entire apartment was perfectly designed to my tastes and style, but it never felt like a home.” I stop a short distance from her. “Not until you, Alayna. You made it come alive. The things that were here—they were chosen for me by someone I want completely removed from my life. Right now, the things here are the only things that made this house a place I’d want to live. Your things. You.”

She starts to say something, but then closes her mouth before anything comes out.

I take advantage of her loss for words. And the fact that she hasn’t kicked me out yet. “And when I move back in, we can refurnish this place from scratch. Together. You and I.”

She takes an audibly shaky breath in. “You’re so sure that one day I’ll take you back.”

I study her. I know her so well, can read her emotions from her body language better than I can read my own. Maybe I’m fooling myself now, seeing what I want to see, but her features, her expression, her carriage—it all says that the outlook for us is good. Really good.

She’s looking at me with love, her eyes begging me to take her into my arms, and I’m carried away in the moment. “I’m hopeful,” I tell her with a smile. “Would you like to see how hopeful I am?”

“Sure.” The word falls easily, and that only makes what I’m going to do that much easier.

I dig in my pocket and pull out the ring. When I put it there this morning, I told myself it was for good luck, that I had no intention of presenting it to her today. Turns out I was fooling myself.

I hold it up in the air, my thumb and forefinger grasping the bottom so that the diamond is standing straight up. “I bought this.”

It takes her a second to register what it is. Then her eyes widen. I take her hand and drop it in her palm. I haven’t quite decided if I’m showing her just to let her know how serious I am about our future or if I’m actually proposing. Again.

Her eyes start to fill, and her expression is confused and hopeful. It’s then I decide what this will be. I’m perfectly aware that this is exactly the opposite of giving time and space. I’m prepared for a second no, but honestly, I’m prepared for a third and fourth as well. I can wait for her.

But she needs to know that I’m here now if she wants me. “There’s an inscription,” I tell her softly. I hear her breath catch as she reads what I’ve had added. I give you all of me.

I fall to my knee. “I realized something about the last time I asked this.” I haven’t prepared anything, but the words come easily. “I did it wrong. First, I didn’t have a ring, and second, I should have gotten on one knee. But more importantly, I didn’t give you the right thing. I offered you everything I had, thinking that was the way to win your heart. That wasn’t what you wanted at all. The only thing you ever asked for, the only thing I would never give you, was me.”

She tries to swallow back a gasp, but it comes out anyway.

“But now I do.” I throw my arms open wide. “Here I am, precious. I give myself freely. All of me, Alayna. No more walls or secrets or games or lies. I give you all of me, honestly. For forever, if you’ll take it.” It’s the most naked that I’ve ever been. The most vulnerable. And the absolutely most honest.

I take the ring from her and slip it onto her shaking hand. Or is it mine that’s shaking? No, I don’t think so. For the first time ever, I feel completely steady.

She stares at it, the reflection of the ring seemingly sparkling in her eyes. She’s an open book, and each doubt and worry cross the landscape of her face. But in the end, it’s affection that settles on her features. Love deeper than any that has ever been shown to me.

I’m certain that she can see the same on my face. My mask is down. My feelings apparent. But I’ll speak them as well. “Alayna, I love you.”

She moves her gaze from the ring to meet my eyes. God, how they find me. I’m forever found in her, and though I’m prepared to wait, I hope and pray that I won’t have to anymore. “Will you marry me? Not today, and not in Vegas, but in a church if you like, or at Mabel Shores in the Hamptons—”

“Or the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens during the cherry blossom season?”

“Yes, there.” She has excellent taste. And then it hits me what she’s said. “Is that a—”

“Yes.” She nods. “It’s a yes.”

* * *

Alayna loves being engaged.

She’s worn the ring a month, and she still shows it to everyone. Even our doorman has been forced to fawn over it. The other night, I double-tipped the Chinese take-out deliveryman because he stayed for seven minutes after I’d paid just to listen to her go on about her diamond. If I didn’t know her as well as I do, I’d suspect she only said yes so she could wiggle her finger in front of people.

But since I do know her, I understand her compulsion to cling on to the object of her affection and parade it possessively. It’s behavior that drove others away from her, which is something I can never understand. I thrive on her attention. I respond to it in kind. We tangle ourselves together with our need to belong to each other. And our love grows stronger through it. More sure.

Along with my twice-weekly meetings with Dr. Alberts, we see a couple’s counselor every Monday. Dr. Lucille Parns. She insists that we call her Lucy. For Alayna’s sake, I actually succumb to the nickname. I’d worried at first that Lucy would frown upon my and Alayna’s attachment. Call it unhealthy. Surprisingly, she doesn’t. Instead she nurtures the aspects that have worked as strengths in our relationships. She encourages our high-level infatuation and our sex life as a means to connect.

Not that Lucy would have any impact on our sex life. I can’t keep my hands off Alayna, and fortunately, she can’t seem to keep her hands off me either.

Despite what we have going for us, Lucy does expect a lot of work. She focuses on our lack of communication and trust. It’s a mystery to me how I can be determined to share everything with Alayna now, and yet, when Lucy presses us, it’s still so hard to be that transparent. “Old habits die hard,” she reminds us. Then she assigns us a new exercise that sounds easy and proves to be a struggle.

Tonight, our assignment is full disclosure. From me. Though Alayna has figured out the basics of my games with Celia and my scheme regarding her, I’ve never told her all of it. Alayna’s not even entirely sure she wants to hear it.

But Lucy has insisted on it. “Alayna’s already forgiven you,” she’d said. “Use that knowledge to erase any fears you have. But there’s no way for you—for both of you—to put this fully to rest without letting light into every corner of this darkness.”

So this is the night we’ve chosen for my confession—exactly one month after she accepted my proposal. My chef prepared a dinner that we ate together by candlelight on our brand new dining table. We still don’t have living room furniture, and summer’s quickly flying away, so after our meal we take advantage of this warm evening and move to the balcony.

The new outdoor furniture is better cushioned than the set I’d had before, yet I can’t get comfortable in my seat. Alayna offers me a drink, but I turn it down. I don’t want to suppress any emotions that come from this confession. It may not be easy, but I want to feel all of it with her.

She angles her chair to face me head on and curls her feet underneath her. She doesn’t pressure me to start, and we sit for several long minutes in silence. Then I begin.

I start with the emotionally closed-off young man I’d been, the man who wanted to understand the relationships he was missing out on because of his lack of feeling. I tell her how he experimented on people he knew. How he experimented on his closest friend and turned her into a hateful, bitter woman.

I tell it all—how I’d kissed Celia, how I’d fucked her friend, how she’d fucked my father, how she’d gotten pregnant. All of it.

Alayna doesn’t interrupt. She listens intently, her expression changing with the particularly disturbing details. It isn’t until I tell her about the night of the symposium, the night I’d first seen her and my life instantly changed, that the tears start. They’re sweet tears that fall quietly down her face. They make it harder for me to go on to the part where I betrayed her. But I do. I tell her all the things I thought and felt, and how I convinced myself I was doing something good, but I always knew that it was wrong.

I end at The Sky Launch, when Alayna realized the truth. It’s the worst part and the best part. It was the moment I almost lost everything. But it was also the moment that I was finally free to love Alayna in the way she deserved, and in that way, it was the moment I gained everything.

I don’t tell her that the whole thing was Celia’s game. I will, one day. But tonight is for my faults, my mistakes. No one else’s. Admitting my own role as victim shifts the focus away from that.

It takes over two hours to complete my story, and when I do, I’m exhausted. Mentally and physically. And I can’t hide that I’m down. It’s been an evening of recalling my sins. I’m humiliated. I’m ashamed.

Alayna stares at the skyline past me, a breeze blowing her hair behind her so her face is clear and visible. Still, it’s hard to read her thoughts as she takes everything in. I start to think that maybe now I need that drink, but then her eyes swing to meet mine and she speaks.

“It’s not on the agenda for me to disclose anything,” she says, “but I have my own confession.”

I’m not worried about anything she has to tell me. The things she thinks are her flaws are the very aspects of her that I adore most. But I am intrigued.

She clears her throat. “It could be easy to listen to what you’ve said and focus on the heartache that you say you caused. But the part that’s missing is that your experiments were done on grown-up people. Adults who are, in the end, responsible for themselves. You hurt Celia. She had a chance to walk away, and she didn’t. She’s culpable for what she became after that. That’s all her, H. Not you.”

I tilt my head and study her. “You had a chance to walk away, too.”

“I did. And me coming back to you—that’s all me.” Her lips twist into a smile. “Though you did do a damn good job of making yourself impossible to resist.”

Weakly, I return her smile. It’s a small comfort against the weight of my past.

Alayna gets up suddenly and crawls onto my lap, straddling me. My cock stirs automatically from our point of contact, but I ignore it. She wraps her arms around my neck, and my own hands settle around her waist.