“Passion? You’re throwing away fifteen years for passion?”

“I didn’t throw away shit!” I yell back. “They were a good fifteen years and I have no regrets, but we ran our course.”

“Because of me.”

“No, Cora, because I’m not in love with your sister anymore.”

“Stop lying!” she shouts, her voice laced with desperation, almost panicked. “I was right about what I said in the car that night. This is toxic. This is wrong. We shouldn’t even be contacting each other. Mandy’s life is ruined and it’s all my fault.” Cora starts to sob into her hands. “I can never forgive myself.”

“Corabelle, stop…” I try reaching for her again, but she pulls away like I’m going to burn her.

“Don’t touch me. I can’t even look at you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s true, okay?” Her voice breaks, shuddering and quivering and full of defeat. “Something happened between us that last day. I felt it, too. And I thought it was just some screwed up defense mechanism that I’d leave behind in that basement… but dammit, Dean, it followed me. I still feel it.” She looks up, boldly finding my eyes. “It’s destroying everything, and I hate you for it.”

My hand cups her face as my heart constricts inside my chest. “Corabelle…”

She slaps my arm away. “Don’t call me that. Don’t touch me. Just leave me alone.”

“You don’t hate me.”

“Yes, I do!” Cora’s pitch rises as new tears break through, then she shoves me backwards. “I hate you. I always have.”

“No.”

“I hate you!” She shoves me again, her palms planting against my chest, causing me to stumble. “I hate you… I ha—”

“No.” I grab her wrists and walk her back towards the far wall until she’s pressed up against it, shaking and crying. I cradle her wet cheeks between my palms and plant a kiss on her mouth, tender and soft. “You love me. You fucking love me, Cora.”

Her cry becomes a gasp as her body arches into me, and I kiss her again—just as soft, just as sweet. Then again, lingering longer, and again, until she curls her fingers around the nape of my neck and pulls me hard against her mouth.

I kiss her, and this time, there is no mistaking what it means.

There are no apologies.

Our lips fuse together with madness and chaos, missing and yearning, our tongues tangling like we’re starving for each other. I angle my head to taste her deeper, but it’s still not enough—never enough. Moans mingle together, becoming one, and I grasp her thigh, yanking it up and around my waist. So familiar… so instinctual. Cora sifts her fingers through my hair, then drags them down my neck, my chest, my abdomen, forcing a groan from the back of my throat. I trail my lips along her jawline, still christened with tears, my tongue tasting her as I find the curve of her neck.

Cora grinds her groin against my erection as her hands claw their way up my shirt. “I don’t love you, Dean.”