Page 155 of The Forgotten Queen
“Of course.”
Marx slowly stepped forward, cautiously wrapping his arms around her body, afraid that any sudden movement would make her disappear sooner. Seran melted into him, closing her arms around his back and shoulders. He buried his head into her neck, breathing her in. She smelled different but the same. Her perfume was a new scent, but the smell of her skin would be with him forever. Her racing heart beat in rhythm with his as he held her close.
Fifty people were probably watching them, wondering why he clung to her so desperately, but Marx didn’t care. He closed his eyes, hoping that he would somehow be able to remember the way her arms felt around him or the way her body fit with his.
He pressed his head deeper into her neck, whispering in her ear. “I meant what I said. I will never regret marrying you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered back.
“For what?”
“For helping me discover who Ireallyam.”
She wasn’t talking about her real name or where she lived. She was talking about the woman deep inside of her.
“You did that yourself, and I’m grateful I got to be by your side to see it.”
“You’re a good man, Marx McKane.” Her voice wobbled. “You’ll make some woman very happy one day…when you let yourself love instead of just pretending, like we did.”
Marx held her tighter, his lips brushing against her ear. “Maybe I wasn’t pretending.”
Her body trembled, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Marx knew what they were up against.
He closed his eyes one last time, breathing her in as his tears fell.
He’d already let go of Sydria. Now it was time to let go of Seran.
54
Seran
Seran stood alone in the middle of the square, watching as Marx walked away. The heartache inside of her wasn’t like any other pain she’d ever experienced before. People moved and worked around her, but she stood numb. A steady stream of tears dripped down her cheeks as Marx rounded the corner and vanished.
There went her life.
She pulled in a ragged breath and looked around the square, recognizing people and servants.
This was her home, but it wasn’t where she belonged.
She wiped at her tears as she raced to find her father, pulling him away from a group of High Rulers.
“Seran, what’s the matter?” He gently touched her head. “Are you not feeling well?”
“I don’t belong here,” she said.
Worry crossed over his face. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, you belong here.”
She shook her head, glancing around. “This isn’t my home anymore or who I want to be.”
Her father frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Did you push through my divorce with Marx?” she asked.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Did you?”
He shook his head. “I began the paperwork. There are still a few signatures I need to make it final. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
