Page 83 of Resisting Royal

CHAPTER 42

BIANCA

I sat on a boulder outside of Roman’s house, watching the sunset behind the trees, a pair of Roman’s dogs sat guard at my feet. It had been two weeks, and I still couldn’t bring myself to call my husband. I knew he knew where I was, with his men milling around the compound to follow through on their arrangement, there was no way someone hadn’t told him.

I was okay with that. I had to be. I had nowhere else to go but here with almost complete strangers. I felt my eyes burn at the realization that this was it for me; the rest of my time on this earth was destined to be walked alone because no man would ever compare to Royal.

A cloud of dirt stirred around me as Emma sat, offering me a cupcake. “Do we miss him? Or despise him?”

I loved how she decided she would band with me, no matter my decision. “A little of both.”

She took a bite of her own cupcake and hummed. “Well, it’s been two weeks, and I’ve not said a word, but I think you should probably talk about it.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Besides everything.

“Why do we despise him?” She swooped her finger into the chocolate frosting and stuck it in her mouth. From a distance, I heard Shaw make a noise as he watched us, and I caught the smirk she was trying to hide.

“To start, he killed my father. He forced me into this farce of a marriage, and he still killed him anyway. What was the point? What did I do for him to break me like this?” I shoved a piece of the cupcake into my mouth, deciding that eating my misery was definitely in order.

“Well, I know you haven’t talked to him in a bit. Roman told him to give you space, but honestly, he’s going a little mad not calling you.”

“Good,” I spat out bitterly.

“You know he didn’t do it, right? They released him the next day,” she offered.

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t do it, it just means they don’t have evidence to prove it.” I kicked my legs out and stretched them in front of me.

She bit her lip for a moment as if she was trying to decide what to say. “Your father died while you were visiting here.”

My heart clenched at the information, sadness consuming me. I knew in a few more days I would have to go back, face the world, and say goodbye to my father one last time. “It doesn’t change how I’m feeling. This is his world, the world that he operates in, he runs, he slides through at his own will—and it killed my father.”

“That’s fair.” She sighed. “I hear he’s tearing apart the city, trying to get retribution.”

This time it was my turn to sigh. “I would never ask Royal to do that.”

“I know, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to get payback for the heartache that this has caused you. Now, why do we miss him?”

I closed my eyes and let out a long breath of air, longing taking over my body. The intensity of my want pulled from my limbs and balled in my chest made me curl up and wrap my arms around my knees, trying to calm my pounding, broken heart.

Our marriage had been short and combative. Royal pushed, I pulled. I gave a little, he took. He gave a lot, and I fought him every step. But it would be a damn lie to say that during that time, he didn’t weasel his way into my heart and forced me to care. He wasn’t a bad man, not really. He just had a skewed perspective on right and wrong with no solid morals. But he cared, and he cared hard. Those who were lucky enough to be on the receiving end of the caring had to feel like they won the lottery.

“Well?” Emma prompted, reminding me that she was waiting for an answer.

I tightened my grip on my knees. “I didn’t know I was so lonely until I had someone care. My whole life it was my father and me. My father was a good man, don’t get me wrong. But, his addiction took so much away from what could have been an amazing childhood. He cared about me, I know that deep down, but he also cared about gambling.” I deepened my voice to sound like my father. “Just one more time. I’m going to hit it big, and we will have it all!”

Beside me, Emma nodded, her own understanding clear on her face, so I continued. “But each one more time led to another, which led to forgotten birthdays and Christmases alone. With Royal, I felt wanted. He picked me, stole me really. He did it for himself, I know that. But, to be put first, just for once, it made me feel special, even as I fought against it. He wanted me, and despite my objections, I wanted him, too. Every damn time his dark eyes found mine, I wanted him. Every time he whispered in my ear, I wanted him. Every time my phone beeped and I rushed to read the text, hoping it was from him—it was because I wanted him. I wanted to love someone so badly, and I do. I fell in love with my husband and look where I ended up? Heartbroken. But even as I sit here, knowing I shouldn’t, I still miss him. I still want him. I still hate that I need him.”

“You can still have him,” she stated, like going to him after all this time was so simple.

“It’s not that simple.”

She shook her head. “And why not?”

“Royal is a caring man. A smart man. A toxic man. What if one day I become just like him? Toxic to anyone around me?”

I watched as her eyes found Shaw from the other side of the grass. He was talking to one of their men, his head tilted back in a laugh as his shaggy hair fell in his face. As if feeling her eyes on him, he looked in her direction, a smile taking over his face.

“You know,” she began as she smiled back at him, shyly tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “I think this world needs a balance of toxic and pure. You could become toxic like him. Or, your pure could rub off, neutralizing his bad.”

This was true. I had never thought of it that way. “That still doesn’t change the fact that he killed my father, even if it was by association.”

“No, your father killed himself by not caring enough to fight his weaknesses.” She stood, brushing the dirt off her bottom as she walked toward Shaw.

I watched his eyes light up as she grew near, and I shoved the rest of my cupcake in my mouth, feeling a heavy dose of animosity that they were happy while I felt miserable. But, in truth, my hostility wasn’t at them, or Royal, or even myself. It was at the fact that Emma was right, my father cared more for money and the thrill, than he did to live a life we both would be proud of.

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