Mag-log inAlexander’s POVThe car stops, rousing me from the unmoving position I’ve been in throughout the ride—head leaning against the headrest, hands gripping the armrests. Still, I don’t move. My mind just recycles my horrible session with Psycho several hours ago, which only left me in a much more miserable state than I was before I entered her office. What a way to realize I’m past redemption.I slowly open my eyes; they ache from hours of screen time and tears, and land on Sophia’s two cars across from mine, the distance painting a terrifying picture of the chasm threatening to form between us. Just last weekend, we were kissing on my bike and making plans to have sex on it.Garvey hasn’t moved in his seat, either. He witnessed my episode after I left my psychotherapist’s and was there to help me back to normalcy before driving all the way back to the company, where I spent the rest of my day, locked up in my office, having given my secretary strict orders to let no one in, no matter who
Penelope’s POV (Psycho)Folded in the passenger seat with my eyes closed, my hands trembling, my heart drums in my ears as memories bleed into my mind—memories of Wade and me, him locking the doors, hiding the keys, and trapping me in a corner to…I sigh deeply, take off my gloves, and shove my fingers into my hair.“Pen, what’s wrong?” Scott asks, worry coating his voice as he drives me to wherever. I don’t know where. But as long as I’m with him, I know I’m safe. I feel his hand on my shoulder, gently squeezing. It’s somewhat calming. “Was someone at your apartment?”I meet his gaze. “I don’t want to talk right now. Please.”He nods, then fixes his eyes back on the road. ****I’m much calmer now, sitting alone on a gray sofa in Scott’s living room, my clammy hands fisted in my lap, my head processing the events of today, wondering how in the world everything led me here—to his home. I would turn down any invite to a guy’s place, including Scott’s, but I must admit that I’ve alway
Penelope’s POV (Psycho)I sigh and keep going.Bright lights suddenly illuminate my path. I pause, turn over my shoulder, and squint at the blinding headlights as a car approaches. It takes two blinks and more squinting to know who it is.Scott.Sighing, I back up on the walkway. He pulls up beside me and lowers his window. I half expect him to have company, but the passenger seat is empty. “Pen?” He calls my name—rare but not unusual when we’re outside hospital walls—looking ravishing yet exhausted. “Why are you walking? Where’s your car?”“The hospital,” I answer and press my lips together quickly, so my teeth don’t start clattering. “I wanted to walk.”“You’re going to turn to ice before you get home,” he says humorlessly. “Get in. I’ll drop you off.”“I’m fine. I want to walk.” I turn and keep moving.His loud horn startles me. I freeze, shut my eyes, and sigh, then turn around slowly. He dims the light and opens his door.Oh, God.I twist my mouth, clenching my fists in the hop
Penelope’s POV (Psycho)“Atone?” I utter, stacking my hands beneath my chin, my elbows pinned to my desk. “Do you mean… repent?”He nods, pinching the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes, and lowering his head. He curses all of a sudden, uncrosses his legs, and bends over, dropping his face into his palms.My pulse quickens, my brows shooting up. I drop my hands and call, “Mr. Thorne?”His eyes are red and misty when he turns them to me again, his hands now on his head as he sits straight. I open my mouth to speak, but my head is blank for a moment.What’s going on?“Why would you want to repent when—” “You don’t understand.” He groans, cutting me off. His face is back in his palm. He’s starting to shake.My own hands are also trembling. I should be used to this, but there’s no getting used to seeing him go from fine to not okay in seconds. Weren’t we talking about his wife? Wasn’t he smiling just now?I take a deep breath, drop my pen, and clench my fists, then ask, “Can you hel
Penelope’s POV (Psycho)‘32-year-old Alexander wishes he could prevent 18-year-old Alexander from experiencing something that meeting (10-year-old) Sophia at that time would have prevented.’I glance at these words I wrote on my notepad the last time we spoke over the phone, then fix my eyes on him again, still waiting for an answer. His eyes are shut, his legs are crossed, one arm is folded against him, and his other hand is fisted between his eyes, the elbow resting on the folded arm. Aside from his short greeting and him surprisingly asking about Bobby when he arrived, he hasn’t said a word since he got in twenty-five minutes ago. I’m terribly used to this, but I thought we were past the silence phase. Okay, maybe I’m not giving him enough grace because I’m having to skip work hours to be here. I can literally still see the sun if I raise the curtains.Now that he’s married, I’m assuming it’ll be hard to meet at random odd hours as we’ve always done.He does look much more relaxe
Alexander’s POVOur appointment with the doctor is for seven. But it’s 04:30 a.m. when I stand at Sophia’s door, beating myself up for not coming sooner. I could barely get any sleep without her by my side. So why did I even stay away? Guilt.Yes, that’s it. Guilt is why I stayed away instead of trying to cheer her up or taking her hand again when she said she wanted to be alone. I promised to be there for her; I assured her she could rely on me, yet I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not giving her my 100%. The worst part is, I think she feels like that, too. It’s all because of our different stances on having kids. We may have reached a consensus, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.I lean closer to her door, listening for any movement. I hear nothing. Then I lift my fist, about to knock. An overwhelmed sigh escapes me. I lower my hand and take the doorknob, turning it slowly. Relief floods me when I realize it’s not locked. I quietly push the door open and poke my head in, my e
Sophia’s POVHe breaks our kiss, hands going still on my thighs. I lock gaze with him, seeing how dark and dilated his pupils have turned. He’s panting just as I am, looking unusually unsettled. His face is frozen—an expression of shock I don’t miss. My body trembles, but I shake my head weakly, l
Sophia’s POV“It’s a guest bedroom,” he says, rolling the strap of my purse around his knuckles. I stare at my purse, mouth dry and open. I don’t know if it’s shock from learning that I’m spending the night in his bedroom or from having my purse snatched from me. My phone, my money, my passport—all
Sophia’s POVHe’s got nipple piercings, a back half-full of tattoos, smokes cigars, swore never to get married, but says he’s marrying me in October.I’m the first woman he’s invited into his penthouse and bedroom; he kisses like a sinner and promises to show me things I can’t handle yet. He lies ef
Alexander Thorne’s POVPhone in hand, I tap a slow rhythm against the steering wheel, my gaze fixed on the pristine lineup of cars in my private garage. My mind is elsewhere.Dimitri left thirty-five minutes ago. I sent Garvey home, too, yet I’ve been seated inside the darkness of this car, waiting.







