covers. "I'm going to run a bath for you, ma belle."
I grip his shoulder. "Don't leave me. I can't be with the eyes, please."
"The eyes?"
I point to the wall.
His head turns, and he clenches his jaw. He wraps the towel I left on the bed earlier around me then picks me up and carries me into the bathroom. After he turns the water on, he sits on the ledge of the tub, with me on his lap.
"Emilia—"
"Don't," I whisper, my voice hoarse.
He freezes, and his heart pounds harder against my ear. I slide my shaking hand in his chest hair, trying to remember what it was like when we were in Belize.
I don't want to hate him. I want to go back to before. I still love him. But I know he broke me.
It was always the plan. Nothing was hidden from me. He had to destroy me. It was my role to crumble in front of everyone.
I didn't know how weak it would make me feel. Or how I would see him in a different light. I felt screwed up before I ever met him. But now, I'm messed up in ways I didn't know existed.
He begged me not to do this. I thought I was strong. I imagined we would deal with this night and get through it. We would be untouched by the Global Leaders.
We aren't.
Guilt and shame cover Malin's face. Worry and pain fill his eyes.
I suppose my face looks the same. But we have different reasons for those emotions. He thinks he understands mine. In many ways, I don't even need to talk to him to know what he thinks. He's right, and he's wrong.
He cups my cheek with one hand. "I'm sorry. I need you to know how sorry I am."
I can't look at him. His eyes are so full of pain. I can't take any more sorrow tonight. "I don't want to break anymore right now. Please. Let's not talk." If I speak, I have to admit to myself, and him, things I don't want to.
He hesitates but finally nods and puts his hand in the water. "It should be okay to get in." He lifts me over the tub, and I sink into the water.
I can't look at him, but I need him. I scoot up and wait with my head down.
He doesn't ask, just seems to realize what I want from him. His body slides behind mine, and he wraps his arms around me. "You don't need to be submissive when we're alone, Emilia."
"Don't I?"
In a firm voice, he says, "No, you don't." He tightens his arms around me. "This is us. No one else."
I sob. Not about being submissive or from what happened but because I missed his arms around me. And I don't know what us is anymore. I barely get out, "I missed you."
The heat of his cheek is heaven. I wish he would scrape his stubble on me. I need something to take me out of the haze I feel I'm in.
He pretzels his legs around mine. "You're all I thought of."
I shouldn't bring it up. It's late. I can barely breathe, much less think. I blurt out, "You were with women...you..." I can't continue.
He spins me on him. "I have not been with any women besides you."
"I saw the photos. They were there tonight."
"Emilia, who are you talking about?"
"The women with the President." My gut twists, thinking about the vile man. His eyes, his breath, his voice, I can't escape. "Bernadette showed me pictures."
"They are waitresses. Kidnapped and broken in at the whorehouse. Their job is to service the Global Leaders. Just because they offered does not mean I said yes. Bernadette showed you to make you hate me. I have not thought about or been with anyone since I met you."
It should give me comfort, but all I see is his face in those pictures. "You...you were smiling."
He shakes his head and forces me to focus on him. "Listen to me. I had to play my role. Gustave and I had to make alliances and recreate trust. But I promise you. I did nothing with those women. You can ask Gustave. He went everywhere with me. Bernadette will tell you the truth now that tonight is over as well. The only woman I want to touch and be with is you. That has not changed. It never will."