Page 209 of My Ruthless Husband

I clench my jaw, refusing to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to talk to you. I want you to leave.” My tone is firm, but my legs feel unsteady as I brush past him and yank the door open.

The silence behind me is deafening, but I can feel the weight of his presence, heavy and impossible to ignore.

“You think I’m going to leave when I just found you?”

“You have to because I told you to!”

“I won’t give up on us, River,” he says. “You’re my wife.”

I grip the doorframe so tightly my knuckles ache, my head lowering against the wood as I fight to breathe. “Well, I gave up on us,” I say, the words escaping on a shaky whisper. My body trembles, every muscle tense.

“I know.” His response is soft, but it hits me like a blow. There’s a rawness to his voice. “What I don’t know is why. I don’t know why you ran. I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Hestops, like he’s trying to find the right words. “But I’ll wait. No matter how long it takes, until you’re ready to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Nothing at all,” I choke out, as I try to swallow a sob.

His hand lands gently on my shoulder, and I flinch, spinning around to face him, my eyes snapping up to his.

That’s when I see it. The exhaustion etched on his face. His eyes are sunken. His jawline is more pronounced now. He’s lost weight, and it shows in the sharpness of his features. His beard is thick and untamed, as if he hasn’t cared to shave in a long time.

He steps closer. “Not once in my entire life had I cared about what anyone thought of me. Never cared about their opinion of me,” Damian says. “I’ve never felt the need to explain myself to anyone, not even to show them I had good intentions. If people hate me, or walk out of my life, I don’t give a damn. But you—” He grabs my elbow as I try to move past him. “When it comes to my wife, I care. I care a great deal if she decides to leave me. I care if she stops loving me. I care.”

His words pierce through me like a thousand sharp needles, and I bite down on my lower lip to keep from falling apart. “No, you don’t.”

Without warning, he spins me around, his hands gripping my shoulders as he looks down at me, his gaze intense. “I do.”

I shake my head, unable to look him in the eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

His hand slides to my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin gently, like he’s trying to calm me, but all it does is set my heart racing. “What did I do, angel? Where did I go wrong?” His voice has a desperate note.

The tears are burning, threatening to spill, but I refuse to let them by shutting my eyes.

“Look at me.”

I shake my head again.

“Please, River,” he says hoarsely, and against every instinct, I glance up. I also let him pull me to him. His arms wrap around me tightly. He looks down at me, his face pained. “Tell me why you left me like that.”

I suck in a sharp breath, my throat tight with the truth I’ve been holding back. “Because you hate my father and everyone connected to him,” I choke out, my chin quivering as I quote him. “I left because, once again, you killed me while I was still breathing. I left because I realized everything we shared on that trip was a lie. I realized that I’d been wasting my time, my heart, my life on a relationship that was already dead. I realized that even if I spent my whole life loving you, you’d never love me back. That’s why I left, Damian.” I break free from his hold.

“So you were eavesdropping that night,” Damian concludes, as if the pieces have finally clicked into place in his mind.

I laugh bitterly, the sound bitter and raw, even to my own ears. “Funny, isn’t it? You accuse me of eavesdropping, yet the things I heard you say about me are just brushed aside, glossed over like they mean nothing.”

“You didn’t hear what I said after—”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters, damn it!” he growls as he pulls me back in, desperation lacing every syllable. “I want you to listen to me. Just listen.”

“And I told you I don’t want to,” I say quietly, pulling away. “I’ve given you more chances than you deserved. I was stupid enough to believe you’d really changed when you whisked me around the world, but I was wrong.” I take a shaky breath. “I was so, so wrong.”

I cut him off before he can respond again. “I might not know what revenge you’re after, Damian but I know this—no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I’ll always come second to this revenge of yours.”

His anger flares. “Would you let me speak now?” he demands, the control he usually maintains slipping away. It’s so unlike him, this anger, this loss of composure. But what do I know about him anymore? After living with this man, being his wife for over a year, I’ve learned I don’t know him at all. Not truly.

“Whether you choose to divorce me or not, it’s your call,” I say, my voice trembling. “Either way, I’m fine. Because I’ll never love anyone else or marry again.”

His face twists with frustration, and he takes a step forward. “River—”

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