Sins Of Her Venom
Chapter 89: The Weight Of Truth

Chapter 89: The Weight Of Truth

- Glyndon Walton: ( Song of the Chapter: Touch Me by The Neighborhood )

I felt like I had just ripped my chest open and let my heart out, vulnerable for her to do whatever she wants with it.

The words had spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them, raw and unfiltered, weeks of denial unraveling in a breathless confession I had not even planned to make. It was like a dam had burst inside me, and suddenly, I could not hold anything back. Suddenly I did not want to hold or hide anything from her.

From Kathrine Andrews.

And now, Kathrine was just staring at me after she heard those words that escaped my mouth a second ago.

Not saying anything. Not reacting. Just staring at my face as if she is seeing for the first time in her life.

My pulse pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat.

I gulped, trying to steady my breathing, but the weight of her silence made it impossible to do it. I had expected—something— Anything.

A smirk, a taunt, a cruel little dig about how pathetic I sounded. But she wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t mocking me. She was just watching me with those sharp, unreadable blue eyes, and I had no idea what she was thinking.

My fingers curled around the hem of my red robe, clutching the fabric like it was the only thing keeping me grounded.

I had never felt this exposed in my entire life. This vulnerable. This insecure and scared.

The truth had always been something I buried, something I fought against with everything I had. But now it was out there, hanging in the air between us, too big, too real to take back.

I had told her everything.

How I hated the feel of Alex’s beard against my skin. How I craved softness of her breasts against my body instead of muscle of his chest. How I never felt anything with him. How I had been watching her, wanting her, thinking about her in ways I refused to admit.

How much I liked it when she touched me.

My stomach twisted at the memory—the way she had pinned me in the janitor’s closet, the way her hands had felt against my skin, the way she had ruined me in the shower, the way she touched me so deeply in the church. The way I had pretended to hate it when really, I had never wanted anything more in my entire life.

And now she knew.

She knew.

And I was the one who told her.

I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze to stay on hers, even though I wanted to look away. I wanted to run. Hide. Pretend I hadn’t just unraveled in front of her like some desperate, broken thing.

But I couldn’t.

Because I wanted this.

I wanted her.

Even if it meant giving her the power to destroy me.

Kathrine’s silence was unbearable.

I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for her to either pull me back or shove me over. My whole body was tense, my fingers twisting in the silky fabric of my robe as if that would somehow hold me together.

She hadn’t moved. Had not said a single word. Just kept watching me with that unreadable expression, like she was dissecting every inch of me, peeling back my skin and staring straight into the parts of myself I had spent years trying to hide.

I felt stripped bare.

"I..." My voice cracked, and I hated that it did. I swallowed hard and tried again. "Say something, Kathrine."

Nothing.

The corner of her mouth twitched—almost like she wanted to smirk—but she did not. She just cocked her head slightly, the way a predator would before deciding whether or not to go for the kill.

I forced myself to stand my ground, even though my legs felt like they might give out at any second.

"What do you want me to say?" she finally murmured. Her voice was calm. Too calm.

I gritted my teeth. "Anything. Anything, please."

She took a slow step forward. My heart jumped to my throat.

She wasn’t touching me, but she might as well have been. Every inch of my skin burned under the weight of her gaze.

"You are saying all of this now?" she asked, her voice laced with something I couldn’t quite place.

I blinked. "What?"

"You expect me to just...what? Forget everything?" Her lips curled, but there was no amusement in it. "You think you can just say ’I’m gay’ and suddenly all the shit you put me through disappears? And I would just let you jump in my arms so we can live happily ever after?"

I flinched, but she didn’t stop.

"You bullied me for years, Glyndon. Years." She scoffed, shaking her head. "You let people laugh at me. Let them humiliate me. You joined them. And now, suddenly, I’m supposed to believe you’ve been secretly wanting me this whole time?"

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. "I did want you." My voice was quiet but steady. "I do want you."

She let out a dry laugh. "Yeah? And what am I supposed to do with that?"

I opened my mouth, but she didn’t let me speak.

"You want me to make this easy for you?" she snapped, taking another step closer. "You think you get to say all of this and I just forgive you?"

"No," I admitted. "I don’t."

She narrowed her eyes.

I took a shaky breath. "I don’t expect you to forgive me, Kat. I don’t even expect you to want me back." I hesitated, then forced the words out before I lost the nerve. "I just...I needed you to know."

Her jaw tensed, but she didn’t say anything.

I took another breath, forcing myself to keep going.

"I broke up with Alex. I told him the truth. About everything." I swallowed. "I told him I wanted you."

Something flickered in her eyes, but it was gone too fast for me to read it.

She exhaled sharply and dragged a hand through her hair. "And now what?"

I hesitated.

She huffed out a humorless laugh. "You expect me to fall into your arms? You think just because you finally decided to be honest, I’m supposed to just—" She cut herself off, shaking her head. "You’re unbelievable."

I wanted to tell her I didn’t expect anything. That I didn’t think she owed me anything. That I knew I had fucked up, badly, and I was willing to do whatever it took to fix it.

But the words wouldn’t come out.

Because the truth was—I did want her to give me a chance.

I was selfish.

I wanted her. I wanted us.

I wanted to make up for every horrible thing I had ever done to her, but I knew that wasn’t up to me. It was up to her.

And right now, she was looking at me like she didn’t know whether she wanted to kiss me or kill me.

Maybe both.

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding so loudly I could barely hear myself think. My fingers trembled as I reached across the table, hesitantly taking Kathrine’s hand.

She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t squeeze back either. Her touch was warm and steady, but unreadable—just like her expression as she stared at me.

"I just want a chance," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Give me a chance to prove that I’m worthy of you."

Kathrine didn’t react at first. She just looked at me, her sharp blue eyes piercing right through me like she could see every hidden insecurity, every ounce of guilt, every desperate hope clinging to my words.

A thick silence settled between us, pressing down on my chest, making it harder to breathe.

Then, finally, she spoke.

"Worthy of me?" She let out a quiet scoff, tilting her head slightly. "That’s a bold thing to say, considering everything."

My stomach twisted painfully, but I didn’t let go of her hand. I held on tighter like it was the only thing keeping me grounded. "I know I don’t deserve it. I know I don’t deserve you. But I’m asking anyway."

Kathrine didn’t respond right away. Instead, she traced the rim of her wine glass with her fingers, slow and deliberate, like she was weighing my words.

Then she sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Let’s say I do give you a chance," she said, her voice laced with something unreadable. "What exactly do you think that means?"

I hesitated, forcing myself to keep eye contact. "It means...I want to be with you."

Her brows lifted slightly, amusement flickering across her face. "Be with me?"

"Yes," I said, firmer this time. "I want to try."

Kathrine hummed, tapping her fingers against the table. "You want to try? After years of treating me like shit?"

Shame burned in my chest, but I nodded. "Yes. I regret everything I did to you. And I will spend as long as it takes making it up to you."

She studied me for a long, unbearable moment, her gaze unreadable.

Then she exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "You think it’s that easy, don’t you?"

"No," I admitted. "I don’t. But I still want to try."

For the first time that night, something in her expression wavered. Just for a second.

A moment of hesitation. A tiny crack in the walls she had spent years building.

And I clung to it with everything I had.

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