Our Broken Pieces - M.E. Clayton Page 0,64

into Mrs. Berny’s office, they already had their minds made up. You were an abuser and I was your victim. They made me feel awful about myself and the things I wanted.”

“Look, baby, don’t take this the wrong way, because I hate your family with an unmeasurable passion. However, most people wouldn’t believe a teenager, no matter what.”

“It didn’t stop there, Gage,” I replied. “For the next few months, my father was hateful, my mother was a crying mess, and Destiny treated me like a victim. No matter how many times I tried to tell them they misread the situation, they continued to believe Margot over me. Even when I tried to explain that Margot was just jealous because Chance didn’t care about her the way you cared about me, they still dismissed me as lying or not knowing what I was talking about.” I took a deep, exhausting breath. “I can forgive someone trying to protect me. But what I can’t forgive are people treating me like my thoughts and emotions have no value. As if they weren’t valid.”

Gaged walked around the island and stepped in between the legs I opened for him. “So, you haven’t spoken to them in ten years?”

“I stopped talking to them completely around my sophomore year in college. That’s what made Alaric drive down to my school and demand an explanation from me. He knew all about what happened, but he’d gotten my parents and Destiny’s version of events. He was the only person who cared enough to listen to my side and not judge my truth or accuse me of making shit up.”

“Does he know we’re back together?”

“Are we?” I asked. “Are we really, Gage?

His head reared back, and he looked confused, but also mildly pissed off. “What? You don’t think we are?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I think the sex might be clouding everything else.”

“Maybe for you,” he retorted. “But I know what I want, Mystic. And it’s what I’ve always wanted. You.”

“So, then, we start dating and-” Gage’s dark laugh stopped me.

He leaned down until I could see the different shades of blue in his eyes. “We’re not dating, Mystic. We aren’t two random people who met at bar one night and decided to see where this could go. Since I was fourteen-fucking-years-old, you are the only female I have ever wanted to be with. You are the only thing that matters in my life. Even when you weren’t in my life, you still were. You were everywhere I looked. You were everywhere I went. You were every fucking dollar I ever made.”

“Gage…” I whispered.

“And if you don’t think this thing between us is designed by fate, how in the fuck do you explain how we both ended up in Chicago? How do you explain finding yourself working for Lorcan and the fact that Lorcan just happened to become my best friend in college? What are the odds that we’d end up in the same place, together, ten years later, Mystic?”

I didn’t have an answer for any of those questions. Each of us could have easily landed anywhere else in the country instead of Chicago. Not to mention, with ten years passed, both of us could have been married to someone else by now.

Now, did I believe in his hint at fate playing a bigger part in our love story? Not really. I just didn’t have any answers to his questions. However, I still needed a clearer understanding of what we were doing.

“Then what are we doing, Gage?”

“Mystic, I plan on having a ring on your finger by the end of next week,” he stated rather matter of fact.

My stomach flipped, but I couldn’t deny it sounded like everything I’ve wanted since I first met Gage. But just because we’ve reconnected didn’t mean it was a good idea. We were different people now. Ten years of different experiences, different direction in life…I wasn’t eighteen-year-old Mystic, anymore. And he wasn’t eighteen-year-old Gage.

“Gage, it’s been ten years since we were last together,” I pointed out. “We’re not the same kids we were when we were dating. A lot has changed.”

“Not as much as you think,” he bit out, frustration lacing each word. I knew he was upset that I wasn’t jumping onboard blindly, but this was too important to rush.

I shook my head. “It hasn’t occurred to you that you might not like the woman I’ve grown into?” I asked. “You’re chasing after your high school sweetheart, Gage, and she no longer