Penance (Devout Trilogy #3) - Lesli Richardson Page 0,1

sadism I got to experience after leaving Liam all those years ago.

Although it’s far from the only torture I endured.

Knowing I hurt Liam the way I did has dug deep trenches in my psyche I can never fill, gouged painful pockmarks throughout my mental landscape.

I deserve every one of them.

I thought he’d heal and move on and hate me. When I learned he got married, I felt relieved that he was happy, even as I secretly mourned the loss and felt simmering jealousy over the fact that another man got to be happy with my beloved Master.

Except…

Liam still loves me.

And Liam’s husband, Daniel…

Well, maybe calling what I have with Daniel “a relationship” isn’t exactly accurate, but it’s far more than I ever could have hoped for.

And far better.

I’m definitely in love with Daniel, although I’m not sure if he’s exactly in love with me.

Except from how he talks, it seems like his eventual goal is to have me living with them, once I can finally free myself from Olivia.

I don’t know exactly what to do with that potential redemption, or the temptation offered in their arms.

Why won’t you at least talk to me? Why did you ghost me?

How do I ever adequately explain to Liam that I believed he’d easily move on and meet someone far more deserving of all he had to offer? How do I ever convince him I thought I was the disposable and replaceable one in our relationship?

How do I ever convey to him that it wasn’t a matter of not valuing him enough, but of devaluing myself completely?

How do I ever justify the wasted years and oceans of tears left in the wake of my terrified retreat from the only true happiness I’ve ever known?

Liam and Daniel have forgiven me…but I don’t know if I can ever forget myself.

At least now they understand how dangerous my father is. Although with my father’s rapidly declining health, he’s far too preoccupied right now to pay much attention to me, thankfully. He had a heart attack late last year that nearly killed him, and he refused to have bypass surgery. A month ago he had a mini-stroke and now needs a full-time caregiver, although he refuses to move out of his home. He can still walk, but he can’t drive.

He might not be as dangerous as he once was, but that’s only because his attention is focused elsewhere. From the way he talks, he is under the impression he will improve and regain his previous health despite everything his doctors have told him and his refusal to heed their advice.

A narcissist’s going to narc, no matter what the truth says.

A knock on the bathroom door startles me and I nearly drop the cell phone as Olivia’s testy tone pierces through the wood and triggers a guilty blush in my cheeks.

“Are you almost ready?”

I protectively clutch the cell against my chest. “Give me a minute. Almost done.”

“You better not be jerking off in there.”

My pulse pounds. “Should I not flush so you can come inspect my shit? Or am I not allowed to even do that by myself anymore?”

“Ugh. You’re so disgusting.” But I hear her footsteps tap-tap-tapping down the hallway in a hasty retreat.

Earns me momentary peace, though. As I expected. Locking myself in the bathroom is a common way I escape her.

Thank god I never wanted kids even before I met her. She would have made a horrible mother. Good luck getting her to change diapers. She can barely deal with her own literal shit, much less anyone else’s. Vomit and snot would send her scampering in a panic, I’m sure.

I return my focus to the screen and thumb to another e-mail.

Sent late the January night after I was sworn in as a US Senator, a little over nine months ago.

Sent only hours after Liam and I had our private reunion.

The e-mail Liam sent right before a flood of e-mails filled the inbox of my old secret account, and which kept me up most of that night, locked in this guest bath and claiming food poisoning while I read them and cried.

I swore I’d never send you all these e-mails. They were written more to preserve my sanity than anything. First, to help me survive and try to find some way to make peace with what happened. Later, to keep me from profaning my marriage to Daniel with the darkness I couldn’t shake, the one that filled my soul and kept me clinging to hope, no matter