Home > Divinely Ruined (Divine Temptations Trilogy #1)(36)

Divinely Ruined (Divine Temptations Trilogy #1)(36)
Author: Diane Alberts

Rebecca shook her head. “No. He doesn’t love me. He used me. I was just a game, and while I was vulnerable he lied to me—”

“Did he ever bed you?”

“What?” She drew up short.

Sally’s mouth creased. “You heard the question, young lady.”

Rebecca thought back over the past week. She’d thrown herself at Tony to the point of making a fool out of herself. Every time they’d kissed, she’d felt his longing, his need. He’d said he loved her. He could have had her at any time, yet he’d always pulled back and claimed it was for her own good.

“No,” she admitted. “He didn’t.”

“But he could have. Easily,” Sally pointed out dryly. Rebecca dropped her eyes. Her face heated until the very tips of her ears burned with embarrassment.

“…rub it in, why don’t you,” she muttered.

“But I’m making my point. So I’ll ask you again: can you trust him?”

“That’s not something I can just choose to do.”

“Sometimes it is.” Sally’s fingertips touched under Rebecca’s chin and tilted her face up to meet warm, sympathetic blue eyes. “Self-pitying Rebecca would hold on to this for years, and continue to let it shape her life and darken her soul. But you aren’t that Rebecca anymore.”

“I guess not.” Rebecca smiled wryly. “But I’m no angel, either, am I?”

Sally raised a brow. “You’re a work in progress.”

Rebecca laughed, then trailed off and looked away, back to her mother’s tombstone. “I’m scared, Sally. What if I trust him and it’s the wrong choice?”

“Then you do what every human does. You heal, and you grow stronger from it. Look at the world around you. Does everyone carry their wounds with them every day, constantly bruised and bleeding?”

“A lot of them do. The rest just hide it better.”

“Ever the optimist.” Sally snorted. “So is that your choice, then? You’ve found a path for yourself. You want to build a life, a career…and a home with the man and little girl that you love. Are you so afraid of failing that you’ll give that up to become an angel?”

“I wanted to become an angel to help people.”

“You wanted to become an angel to hide from the fact that you were unwilling to help yourself.”

“Ow.” Rebecca winced. “You don’t sugarcoat things, do you?”

“Rule number one—”

“—never lie,” Rebecca finished, and grinned.

Sally smiled. Her eyes softened. “Exactly.”

“Can Tony really have changed so much in just a few weeks?”

Sally searched Rebecca’s eyes, and Rebecca felt that strange sense of the angel touching her thoughts, her emotions.

“You have,” Sally murmured.

Had she?

Rebecca returned her gaze to the inscription. Tony’s laughter echoed in her thoughts. He’d been able to cheer her up so easily, when she’d almost never laughed before. He’d anchored her when she felt lost and confused. He’d made her want to learn how to stand on her own, to be strong enough to be there for him, and for Miranda.

Had he really done all that for her sake, and not just because he wanted to win her?

She remembered his hands shaking, as he pushed her away. Remembered his eyes on hers. How it felt when he kissed her, as if he couldn’t stop himself—but he had to. And because he’d pushed her away, she’d retaliated by pushing back, and forcing him out of her life when he tried to open his heart to her.

She’d spent her entire life trying to protect herself from men who would hurt her. She’d always known that her life would be unpredictable and unreliable, but she’d used that as an excuse to wall herself off so that nothing bad could touch her heart—but nothing good, either.

And in trying so hard to protect herself, she’d lost Tony and Miranda both.

Would he still want her, if she went to him now? She’d said such hurtful things. She’d left him alone at the hospital, when he’d been there for her in the same situation. She was still so angry at him for lying to her, but she’d hardly been a model of good behavior, either. They’d both made mistakes, but that was part of being human.

But we’re not so black and white as everyone thinks.

He might reject her. Worse, later he might grow tired of her and cast her aside. She’d never know until she tried. Never know what might happen next.

And that, too, was part of the madness and beauty of being human.

She looked up at Sally with a smile that felt like it filled her soul and shone out through every pore of her. “Sally—”

“I know,” Sally said, and reached out to squeeze her hand. “Go get him.”

Rebecca stood and, after one last look at her mother’s grave, left the dead to go in search of the living.

Sally watched Rebecca go with a fond smile. She’d done a good job with this one, she thought. Rebecca Chance had been one of the most troubled mortals she’d seen in a long time. Directionless. Lacking purpose. Self-destructive and unwilling to do anything to change that.

She’d taken a risk, bringing Rebecca into the training program. No doubt she could have made a decent angel out of that bratty little hellion, but she’d have crushed her spirit in the process. She’d been so fragile, when Sally had first found her.

It was so lovely to see that change.

She stood and brushed bits of grass from her skirt. She brushed her fingers over the curve of the tombstone; the granite was slick, warmed by the sun. “I told you, Lily,” she murmured. “I told you your little girl would be all right.”

There were other jobs waiting for her, elsewhere in the world—but for now, Sally let herself enjoy the walk through the graveyard, and the sunlight on her shoulders. Maybe she’d stop for a latte. Even she was allowed an indulgence now and then.

Besides, she thought. She owed herself, for a job well done.

Chapter Twelve

Angel Rule #12: Don’t give up until you achieve happily ever after.

Tony sat on the couch and watched condensation roll down a bottle of beer to form a puddle on his coffee table. Miranda had fallen back asleep over an hour ago, after spending thirty minutes doodling on his cast and what felt like ten more hours asking, over and over, where Rebecca was. Misery washed over him. He couldn’t bring himself to move, even if he desperately needed to. That beer wouldn’t drink itself, and right now it was the best painkiller he had. The Vicodin might numb his broken arm, but it wouldn’t soothe his broken heart.

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