Page 83 of Thrones We Steal

“Love the Way You Lie” - Eminem + Rihanna

The ride back to Beck’s car is torture. None of us speaks as Henry steers his car down the country roads and into the gates of Worthington Park. It turns out Beck and I wandered nearly four miles from the car park in those woods, and had it not been for Beck’s suggestion of heading for the road, we might still be in there.

After Henry parks, Beck and I climb out of the back seat. I wrap my arms around him and whisper “I’m so sorry” into his chest.

He presses a kiss to my head, much easier to reach from his height than my lips. “Don’t be. I’m not.” I look up to find his eyes dancing in the moonlight. “I just got to spend three uninterrupted hours with you. I can think of worse things.”

“Say a prayer for me,” I say and glance at Henry’s car. “I have to ride back with the Grinch.”

I don’t know what I’m expecting on the long drive back with Henry. I haven’t seen him in weeks, not since the night he told me he couldn’t be with me. He may as well have screamed “it’s you, not me” from the palace roof.

My body is trembling, both from the cold night air and the buffet of emotions ranging inside. I’m angry, for sure. But I’m also electrified at being next to him. I’m terrified he’s going to hurt me again, but I’m also hoping he reaches over, takes my hand, and confesses that he screwed up.

He doesn’t.

We don’t say anything for a long time, until finally I can’t take it anymore.

“I thought you were out of the country.”

“I was.”

“So why are you here?”

“I’m back.”

“I mean, why did you pick us up?”

“You were lost.”

“Keep this up and I might call you Einstein.”

This deserves a chuckle at least, but he doesn’t make a sound.

“Did Maisie send you?” My voice is the perfect conversational tone. I will give my firstborn child before I allow him to see what he’s done to me.

“I offered.” If the steering wheel was someone’s throat, they would be on their last gasp of air right now.

“Thank you. I think.”

There’s a beat of silence and then he slams his palm against the wheel, startling me so badly I let out a little yip. “No, not thank you. What the fuck were you doing, Celia?”

Instantly, my blood is a teakettle, the whistle starting to shriek. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” I mourn the loss of my hypothetical firstborn, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to waltz back into my life and pretend he cares.

“You’re my wife!”

My mouth falls open, and I gape at him, momentarily at a loss for words. However, they don’t fail me for long. “Yes, wife of the guy who said he wants nothing to do with me before his World Tour: Supermodel Edition.”

A vein in his neck twitches, and his clenched jawbone looks insanely attractive in the shadows of the car. I want to smash it with a baseball bat.

The car swerves and comes to a complete stop beside the road. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he climbs out and slams the door.

I wait for him to return. Maybe we hit something, although I didn’t feel a bump. Maybe a flat tire? I glance in the side mirror and can just make out Henry’s form pacing a little way down the road. What the hell is he doing?

I get out of the car and prop my elbow on the roof. “Are you almost done ruminating out here? I’m tired and I want to go home.”

At my voice, he swings around and stalks back to me. “You’re tired, huh? Maybe because you took a little adventure in the woods without telling anyone where you were, got lost in said woods, and put your life in incredible danger. It does tend to exhaust people.” His words are pregnant with anger and laced with sarcasm, but there’s something else in them too.

I open my mouth to respond, but he cuts me off.

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