Page 69 of Captive Bride

“Good. You should be.”

But then she smiled…and for a second, everything felt like it was just the way it should be.

If only I’d known just how close to danger we truly were…

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Adriana

Tristan had just asked me to marry him…and I’d said yes.

After the twins were born, all the drama with the wedding, it seemed to stop mattering as much. He was the father of my children. He was, I was pretty sure, the love of my life.

And we were going to get married. Sure, there were advantages, but even without those…this just made sense.

We’d fallen asleep, but now I was ready to talk about it. I could tell he was awake too, so I decided to just go for it then, before the twins interrupted us.

"Tristan," I whispered, breaking the silence that had settled between us like an unspoken agreement. My voice held the tremor of my nerves, betraying the steel I tried to forge it with. "We need to talk about the wedding."

He shifted beneath me, and I could feel the vibration of his voice as he murmured, "What about it?"

I swallowed, choosing my words with care. "I want a church wedding... a real one." The determination in my tone surprised even me. It wasn't just a demand; it was a plea for something concrete amidst the chaos of our lives.

His fingers drew patterns on my back, a silent language of intimacy that had become our secret script. I felt the tension drain from my muscles under his touch, like I was melting into the bed, into him.

"Alright, Ade," Tristan's voice rumbled through the quiet room, resonant and soothing. "A church wedding it is." He exhaled slowly, as if releasing a long-held breath. "My mum would've loved that. The guilt's been gnawing at me anyway."

“Which…guilt?”

“I don’t know. They one they inject into your veins when the priest baptises you.”

“Ah, right, that one.”

“Of course we’ll have a Church wedding.”

I blinked in surprise, turning to study his face. The ambient light caught the sincerity in his expression, and my heart swelled with an unexpected rush of hope. And just like that, a weight lifted off my chest, a weight I hadn't fully realized was there.

"Really?" The word came out as a whisper, laced with the giddiness of a wish granted. It was more than just a wedding—it was belonging, it was tradition, it was us laying down roots.

"Really," he confirmed and sealed the promise with a kiss to my forehead.

Emboldened by the warmth spreading through my veins, I decided to push further, to tackle the elephant that had taken up residence in the room since the twins arrived. "And once the babies are a bit older, I want us to see a marriage counselor."

The words hung between us, a gauntlet thrown down. I held my breath, watching for any sign of the man who preferred to keep the world at arm's length, to protect what was his with fierce privacy.

"Marriage counseling?" His voice didn't betray anything, but I could feel the shift in his body, the stiffening of muscles that were relaxed moments ago.

"Yes," I said firmly, meeting his gaze head-on. "To help us sort through... everything. We're not just Adriana and Tristan anymore; we're parents, partners in this crazily tangled life. We need to be the best versions of ourselves—for each other and for our children. And there’s a lot of history between us. A lot of baggage. If we want to raise our babies in this world, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

He didn’t say anything.

He was silent for a heartbeat too long, and I fought the urge to fill the void with more words, more reasons.

I traced the contours of his tense jawline, feeling the grit beneath my fingertips. "Tristan," I whispered, the stillness of the evening wrapping around us like a secret waiting to be told.

"Adriana, you know how this life works. We keep our affairs within the family. Counselors, they're outsiders," he murmured, the furrow in his brow deepening. Tension hovered in the air, thick enough to slice through.

"Outsiders who are trained to help," I countered, my voice steady as my resolve. "This isn't about secrets or power; it's about us working through the knots in our marriage. It's about being honest and open in a way that we might not manage on our own."

"Openness is a vulnerability," he said, but the edge in his voice had softened just a fraction. His blue eyes, usually so piercing, now reflected an inner turmoil, a war between his guarded nature and the possibility of trust.

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