Page 97 of Thorns of Deceit
The air between us thickened—too heavy, too full of things neither of us was ready to face. Somewhere outside, the wind shifted, brushing against the windowpane like a whisper of something inevitable.
My heart stuttered, panic flooding my senses. First, she left me to think she was dead, and now this? For fuck’s sake, how could she be so heartless? Or did she really detest me so much…
“You should’ve thought about that before we had sex.” My voice came out too sharp.
Her head reared back like I’d slapped her. “Wow.”
“No, you don’t get to ‘wow’ me,” I snapped. “There are consequences to having unprotected sex and you knew even five years ago that I’d eventually want heirs.”
She flared. “Are you being serious right now?”
“Dead serious,” I bit out.
Her jaw clenched. “You didn’t give me a choice. You practically dragged me into your bed!”
I stepped back, my fingers going numb at my sides. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I was doing fine before you showed up in my life,” she said, her voice trembling with rage. “But you had to bulldoze your way in, destroying both my peace and the promise I made to my mother.”
My chest went hollow. “So it’s all my fault?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it,” I gritted. “And what promise?”
She flinched. “You don’t get to play the victim, Aiden.”
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”
Silence sliced like a blade between us.
“I can’t have a baby, not after my promise. Besides, I’m firsthand evidence of how badly that can end up.”
She trailed off.
I paused, her words only just registering. “I’m asking again, after what promise?”
“Forget it.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
“Tell me!” I roared.
She flinched, her eyes wild, but then she squared her shoulders and glared at me.
“After the promise I made to my mother!” she erupted. “It’s because of you and your family that the explosion happened. You all brought him back into our lives. There was a reason my mom left him when she got pregnant with me.”
The pitch of her voice increased with every word and her cheeks were flushed, but it was an angry kind of red that froze my heart.
“You and your family are the reason she’s dead.”
“She?” I demanded, not following her meaning.
“Yes, she’s dead because of you,” she screamed.
The lights in the room suddenly felt too bright. She had no right to be angry at me after deceiving me. Yes, I had lived with guilt for the past five years and blamed my uncle for jumping the gun on Duncan Lyons, but she’d made mistakes too. So if I could move past that, so should my wife.
