Page 38 of Bound in Promise
But I want her so badly that it’s causing me physical pain.
I need to get that shit under control.
13
VICTORIA
Wednesday, October 2
Dante hasn’t come back to our bedroom in two days, and it’s driving me insane.
He’s locked himself back into his office, never leaving unless I’m upstairs. It’s obvious he’s avoiding me.
I’m not sure if it’s for his benefit or mine.
I know what I said and did was wrong. I got so caught up and twisted in my head that I let poison spill from my lips and acted like I didn’t care. I’m fully aware that Liam used me, that I wouldn’t be in this mess if he had just left me alone. I know Dante has been protecting me at all costs, putting himself at risk, and that he’s done everything in his power to make sure I have a future after this.
Yet, I still said all those ungrateful, shitty things and that weighs on me. Dante may be agonizing over my supposed feelings for Liam, but he has nothing to worry about on that front.
In fact, I know deep down that I’m really falling for my husband. I can’t allow myself to examine my emotions too closely, but even though I am willfully ignoring my own heart, I can’t deny what’s happening.
Especially when we fight.
The idea of losing him, of never seeing him again, is a looming nightmare and I hope it will never become a reality. However, Dante wasted no time in reminding me that once we get to Paris, we are through.
No discussion, no trying to make it work.
Just over.
Hearing his cold declaration made my stomach flip inside out.
Not only because his words meant I would be alone in Paris, but because they meant he can easily imagine separating from me. That the idea doesn’t fill him with dread.
It should’ve been the slap in the face that I clearly need.
Instead, I’m entering his study without knocking to bring him a lunch he didn’t ask for.
His dark eyes cut upwards, meeting mine as he pauses in reading from his laptop. The sudden weight of his attention after two days of nothing makes me hesitate in the door, but I power through, clutching the plate like it’s a lifeline.
I made him a grilled cheese sandwich.
Nothing extravagant. I didn’t have enough energy for anything more complicated than this. The back and forth is killing me. I’ve never been one to enjoy not knowing where I stand. This gulf between us is taunting me, fraying my sanity.
“I brought you something to eat,” I manage to get out, approaching his desk and placing the plate next to a stack of papers. He’s wearing a black Henley and jeans, the only pop of color an olive-green denim jacket. The stubble along his jawline has lengthened into a short beard and exhaustion is visible in the lines framing his eyes. “I’m sorry if?—”
“You’re the only bit of light I’ve seen in two days, princess,” he assures me, his voice a comforting rumble. “Come here.”
I close the distance between us without pausing to think. As I round the desk, Dante turns his chair and pulls me into his lap, cradling me close.
Instantly, I’m wrapped in an aura of safety. Contentment fills me. I never want to leave.
His large palm falls to my thigh and he spreads his fingers, running his thumb up and down my leggings in soothing strokes. “How have you been?”
“Awful.”
He doesn’t pause in his rhythmic stroking, and I can’t tell how my honesty affects him. “Why?”
“Everything that’s happened…the things I said…”
