Page 112 of The Oath We Give

He almost looks offended that I’d think differently. Like it was self-explanatory that if I didn’t like something, he wouldn’t like it either.

I melt a little into those dark brown eyes, my heart tightening in my chest. It’s such a small gesture, but it’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me.

My hand on his stomach slides up to his chest, and even though my parents are right there watching us, I can’t help myself from reaching up on my tippy-toes to place a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Chaste and quick, a thank-you without words.

“Looks like we won’t have to wait long for grandchildren, J.”

The warmth from my body runs ice-cold. I place my feet back on the ground, narrowing my eyes at her.

“Regina, respectfully, why the fuck do you care?”

“Excuse me?”she gasps, eyes wide.

I hadn’t planned to say anything, but since I’ve already started, there is no stopping it.

“Never once, not once in my life, have you given a shit. And now, what? Because I marry someone with money, you care? I tried for years to earn your love, like it was something that needed to be worked for instead of given freely.” I shake my head at her audacity, a spiteful smile on my face. “I spent my childhood bending over fucking backward to be what you wanted, and it was never enough for you. So, I’ll ask again, why the fuck do you care?”

“You can’t speak to me like that. I raised you the best I could, but you’ve always been so…troubled. From the start!” Regina sputters like a fish out of water. “James, are you just going to let her talk to me like that?”

“Coraline—”

“I suggest,” Silas interrupts, speaking directly to my father, “you choose those next words carefully, James.”

My father has always been an unstoppable force, but Silas is an immovable object. They’re titans clashing, and if I had to bet, my money would be on my husband. Fake or not. Silas is a protector by nature; when you’re in his inner circle, no one can touch you.

“You two can buy something or see yourself out,” I snip, finished with this conversation, tired of speaking to them, pretending that they actually give a shit.

This event isn’t about them, and that’s what I’m doing, making it about my shitty parents. I don’t want to ruin this opportunity for these girls, so I step from Silas’s hold and go outside for some fresh air.

And just like that night at the art gala, Silas follows, meeting me in the daylight. The sun beams down on the two of us as he slides his hands into his pockets. I look at him, really look at him for a second.

Regardless of how badly I try to deny it, I like him.

Much more than I ever wanted to. He just makes it so fucking difficult not to. Everything he does, everything he says, it just makes me want to give in.

“What do you need?” Silasasks.

“Huh?”

“What do you need?” he asks again. “You frown when you’re upset. Tell me how to fix it.”

This is exactly what I’m talking about. This observant person who has seen right through me from that very first phone call. No one has ever cared about me the way he does. Paid attention to the way I move and how I feel the way he has.

My entire life, I have been made to believe I am unlovable. That I am a cursed, hard-to-love creature undeserving of kindness, and Silas just…he makes it look so easy.

“I tell you what I need to feel better, and you just fix it? A snap of your fingers? What if I said stabbing Regina with a fork would make me feel better, Hawthorne.”

He steps closer to me, rubbing his thumb across the lines on my forehead.

“You’re in control of a monster, Hex. Whatever you need, it’s already yours.”

The scary part isn’t that he views himself as a monster.

It’s that I believe him.

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