Page 111 of Royal Bargain
He drops a teabag into the mug. Pours the hot water. Picks up a spoon.
Stirs.
I take a step forward, heart pounding. “Just talk to me.”
That finally makes him pause.
For one agonizing second, I think he’s going to turn around. Say something. Anything.
But he doesn’t. He just picks up the mug and walks past me like I’m a ghost.
And I feel like one.
I watch him disappear into the next room, mug in hand, like nothing happened. Like he didn’t just gun down two men in the street to protect me. Like I didn’t just risk everything and leave our daughter behind.
The quiet eats at me. It’s not indifference—it’s something else—but I can’t read him. And not knowing is worse than any fight.
I follow him, barefoot steps silent on the hardwood. He sits down on the edge of the couch, cradling the mug in both hands, eyes locked on some invisible point across the room.
“You’re really not going to talk to me?” I ask.
No response.
I cross my arms, heartbeat wild. “Is this it, then? You’ve decided I’m not worth the effort?”
Still nothing. Not even a flicker of emotion.
My chest tightens. My voice hardens. “I get it. I burden your life. I make it more complicated. You can’t stand having me around.”
That gets him.
His head snaps toward me. His eyes meet mine—and they’re not cold. They’re burning.
“You want to know how I feel?” His voice is low, rough. “You drive me crazy.”
I flinch.
“I can’t stop thinking about you when you’re gone. I can’t sleep when you’re near. I haven’t been able to breathe right since you showed up on my doorstep asking for help.”
He stands, setting the mug down with too much force.
“You make me want things I shouldn’t want. Make me feel things I’m not supposed to feel. And then you pull this disappearing act, leave me with our daughter and no damn explanation—do you have any idea what that does to me?”
He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him, the tension vibrating in the air between us.
“You make me want to… to do something stupid,” he mumbles.
I tilt my head, letting my lips curl into something just shy of cruel. “Then do it.”
His eyes flash—dark, wild. “What?”
“Do something stupid,” I whisper, stepping closer until there’s barely any space left between us. “You’ve been pacing around like you’re going to explode—so go ahead.Explode.”
That’s all it takes.
He grabs me.
One second I’m standing there, baiting him, and the next I’m flat on my back on the living room floor, his weight pressing down on me, his mouth crashing into mine like he’s drowning and I’m air.
