Page 30 of The Dark Elf's Found Family
"I understand why you pulled away the other night," I continue when she doesn't respond. "Why you've been keeping your distance. And I want you to know that I'm not asking you to forget whatever he did to you. I'm not asking you to trust me because I think I've somehow earned it in a matter weeks."
Her mouth tightens slightly, and I can see her preparing to deflect, to build those walls higher. But I press on before she can retreat completely.
"But I know what it feels like to be in similar shoes." That seems to give her pause so I keep going. "I married Syrelle for all the wrong reasons," I say, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "She was noble-born, from a family with connections I needed. I was a mid-level poet with talent but no status, no way to advance my career beyond writing penny novels for the masses."
Brynn's eyebrows rise slightly at the admission, but she doesn't interrupt.
"The marriage was supposed to be practical. Beneficial for both of us. She got access to the money my writing brought in, I got access to her family's social circles. It seemed... reasonable."
"But it wasn't."
"No." The word comes out harsher than I intend, carrying years of frustration and disappointment. "Nothing was ever enough for her. Not the money, not the status, not the parties or the clothes or the endless stream of admirers she collected like trophies. She was always chasing the next high, the next thrill, the next thing that might fill whatever void was eating at her from the inside."
I pause, watching a thalvern skim across the water's surface, its wings barely disturbing the perfect reflection. The girls' laughter drifts back to us, a bright counterpoint to the weight of old memories.
"The aviid powder started as a party drug," I continue, forcing myself to meet Brynn's eyes. "Something to enhance the experience at those glittering salon gatherings she lived for. But it became more than that. An escape, an addiction, a way to avoid dealing with the reality that nothing in her life actually made her happy."
I see her muscles tense. I don't think Brynn will ever get over the fact that Nya was hurt in the process because of that.
I have to look away to keep going. "Even when she was pregnant. She saw Nya as an inconvenience, something thatwould interfere with her lifestyle. The pregnancy made her angry, resentful. She used more during those months, not less. and then it kept going until she finally took too much one night." I rub at my face. "Chasing that high finally killed her."
Brynn is quiet for a long moment, processing. When she speaks, her voice is softer than I expected. "Did you love her?"
"No." The admission should feel like a betrayal, but it only brings relief. "I tried to. Thought I could learn to, given time. But she made it impossible. Every conversation was about her wants, her needs, her disappointments. Every interaction was calculated to get something from me—money, attention, validation. I was never a person to her, just a resource to be exploited."
"That must have been lonely."
The understanding in her voice nearly undoes me. Because yes, it was lonely. Desperately, achingly lonely, to be married to someone who saw me as nothing more than a means to an end. To know that no matter what I achieved or provided, it would never be enough to make her see me as worthy of genuine affection.
"I know what it's like," I say quietly, "to not be enough for someone. To watch them look past you, through you, always searching for something better just beyond your reach. I know what it feels like to be abandoned because, for some reason, they are always reaching for something more."
Brynn's hands are clenched in her lap, her knuckles white against the wool of her cloak. I can see the recognition in her eyes, the way my words are hitting home in ways I hadn't expected.
"But I also know what it feels like to find something real," I continue, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Something worth staying for. Worth fighting for."
I reach out slowly, giving her time to pull away, and cover one of her clenched hands with mine. Her skin is cold despite her gloves, and I can feel the fine tremor running through her fingers.
"I see you, Brynn," I say, putting everything I feel into the words. "Not as a convenience or a distraction or something to pass the time until better options come along. I see your strength, your kindness, the way you've built a life and a home for yourself and Rhea against all odds. I see how you protect the people you love, how you've carved out space for joy and beauty even when the world tried to take it from you."
Her breath catches, and I can see the wall she's built around her heart beginning to crack. The girls' voices seem to fade into the background, the whole world narrowing to this moment, this choice, this fragile thing growing between us.
"I'm not going anywhere," I tell her, meaning every word. "Not unless you ask me to. Not because I get bored or restless or because something shinier catches my eye. I want to be here, with you, with both girls. I want to build something real, something lasting. Something that matters."
A tear slips down her cheek, and she doesn't bother to wipe it away. When she finally speaks, her voice is rough with emotion.
"I'm scared," she whispers.
"I know." I squeeze her hand gently, feeling some of the tension leave her fingers. "I'm scared too. But maybe... maybe we can be scared together."
She's quiet for a moment, and I wonder if I pushed too far. But then she softly sighs, "Maybe."
And then she leans into my side, my magic settling over us to keep us warm as the girls coming running up. I cast the heat over them, too, speeding up the fire's drying process.
We might not be quite there, yet, but I can feel it. Brynn is trying to trust me. It's just hard for her.
But I'll earn it. Each day, bit by bit, I'll show her I'm worth it.
17
