Love Rents A Room
Chapter 191: The Heart’s Pain

Chapter 191: The Heart’s Pain

"I told him," Jeffrey said, bluntly. No embellishments. No excuses. The words hung in the darkness like a confession in a confessional booth—bare, shivering, ashamed.

He had held onto this secret for too long, and it had cost them far more than just time. It had carved silence between them, turned the warmth of what they had into something cold and brittle.

"I was drunk at the bar," he continued, voice tight. "I’d just pieced it all together—how you were the one I was meant to marry, the one my grandfather chose for me, and also the reason I lost everything. That’s what I believed back then."

Joanne’s heart tightened.

"I was angry," he said. "So angry. I said terrible things about you. I got so drunk... I told Caruso about the broken camera. The one..."

His hand was in hers, trembling. Cold.

"You blurted it out... because you were drunk," Joanne said softly, trying to rationalize it, for her own sake as much as his.

She wanted to understand, to make sense of something senseless. She would’ve been livid, too, if someone had made her fall out of her grandfather’s favor. Jeffrey had lost his future that day—Philip had literally torn up his diploma when he refused the arranged marriage.

It didn’t justify anything, but it explained his fury.

Right? He wouldn’t want her hurt, would he? He was drunk. That was all.

"Jo..." His voice cracked. "I’m not even sure if I did it out of drunkenness or rage. I keep replaying that over and over, and I don’t know anymore. Maybe I wanted you dead... that version of me, that selfish, broken part of me... wanted you out of the picture. That’s what terrifies me."

His voice dropped, hoarse and raw. "I’m ashamed. I hate myself for even thinking that way. I always told myself I wasn’t that guy. But I proved myself wrong. I am that guy. I compromised your safety. You, the woman I fell so completely in love with. I’m... filth. Unworthy of you."

Joanne’s breath stilled.

She had been betrayed before, by her own family, cousins who once held weapons to rob her. She had faced danger in alleyways, in restrooms, in boardrooms. She had known the cold stare of someone who wanted to see her hurt.

But this... this was different. This was him.

Her hand faltered in his. Her trust, once absolute, now trembled in the shadows between them. This was the man who had seen her at her lowest and helped her rise. Who had looked at her like she was more than enough. The man she had let into the quietest corners of her heart.

To think he, too, had almost destroyed her... was nearly too much to bear.

"Jo..." Jeffrey’s voice broke, catching like glass in his throat. He felt her slipping away from him—the loosening of her hand, the silence of her judgment. "I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. I know I’m not worth your love. My grandfather was right about me. He’s disappointed, and he should be. I wish I—" his voice caught, "I wish I were dead than be the one who could hurt the one I love. But..."

His body shook, overwhelmed by everything he had buried for so long.

Joanne closed her eyes, and pain cracked through her chest like lightning.

He had betrayed her in a way that echoed her deepest wounds. It shook the very foundation of everything they had been.

And yet... even so...

She couldn’t bear to see him like this. Broken. Lost. Bleeding from the inside.

Even now, her heart reached for him—aching, aching for him.

Before she could stop herself, she pulled him close.

Her robe slipped off one shoulder, but she didn’t care. She wrapped her arms around him, let his face fall into the warm curve of her neck, and held him. His shoulders trembled under her touch. She gently rubbed his back as he stifled his sobs, trying not to break.

It was instinct. It was madness. It was love.

Even now, even after everything... it was natural to hold him.

Still.

Jeffrey felt her warmth envelop him—soft, steady, and devastating. It was the same warmth she had always carried, even when she was bleeding, even when she had every reason to turn cold. Forgiveness clung to her like a quiet, holy light. Even when shattered, she embraced. Even when betrayed, she loved.

"I still want you..." His voice cracked out of him, raw and loud, torn from the core of everything he had tried to suppress.

The mask of composure, of restraint, of masculine pride, all shattered.

One loud, broken sob escaped his lips, wet and uncontainable. His entire body shook in her arms, collapsing in front of her with the weight of his guilt. He had carried it for too long.

"I’m so selfish, Jo..." His voice fractured again. "I love you. God, I love you. I want a future with you. I want to live... and live it beside you. Let me love you for the rest of my life... Please..."

His hands clung to her, trembling, desperate. He didn’t believe he had the right to hold her, not after what he had done, but his need, his longing, made him give in anyway. For her, he was willing to be selfish. Just like always.

"I swear I’ll make it up to you," he whispered against her skin, pleading like a child begging not to be abandoned. "I swear I’ll never hurt you again. When I turned my back on you that day, I wasn’t protecting her. I was never protecting her. I don’t care about her. You don’t understand..."

He lifted his face, just enough for her to feel the heat of his breath.

"You’re the only one I trust. The only one. Heather... she’s the enemy. I can’t turn my back on her. I never could. She’ll strike the moment I do. But you... you, Jo—I could turn my back on you, because I know you’d never hurt me. I trust your love. I long for it. I need it..."

His voice broke again, hushed and raw.

"Please don’t hate me," he said. "Please..."

He laid himself bare—stripped of pride, of armor, of everything he had once used to shield his heart. And in front of her, he was no longer the confident man who could command a room or silence a storm. He was just a man—wrecked, remorseful, desperate to be loved by the woman he had betrayed.

Joanne’s arms were still around him, her fingers still trembling against his back. But her voice—when it finally came—was steady. Wounded, but clear.

"Am I a doormat for you?"

Jeffrey froze. His breath hitched in her collarbone.

She wasn’t pulling away. Not yet. But the words cut deep.

"I’m still holding you," she whispered, almost to herself. "And I still can’t bear your pain... But is that all I am to people?"

Her voice cracked—not from weakness, but from the weight of all the unspoken grief she’d carried for far too long.

"Do I make it too easy?" she went on. "Is that it? Because I love... because I forgive... because I’m willing to give second chances... does that make it okay for everyone to put me last and expect I’ll still be here when they’re ready?"

Tip: You can use left, right keyboard keys to browse between chapters.Tap the middle of the screen to reveal Reading Options.

If you find any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.

Report