Page 104 of Captive Bride

In the coming days, I eat a little bit more, but I don’t leave the room. I stay in bed and hours turn into hours and days turn into days, and I don’t how long I’ve been here, and I don’t care.

In the back of my mind, I’m starting to think that I have to get away from this fortress. The problem is I can’t go home.

I can’t trade one prison for another.

As my heart aches for Theo, my thoughts lend themselves toward escaping. Maybe I can be free of all of this.

But then inevitably, I come back to the reality that I love Tristan, and I could never leave him. He’s sewn into my heart like he’s a piece of me.

And Tristan does come to check on me. Almost hourly, he’s opening the door and peeking inside just to see if I’m okay. I know he must be worried sick. I know if he was in this position, I would be worried sick.

But I’m in a harrowing daze, and I barely care or notice that he’s there. Even though the light of our love is pumping hard in my heart still, I don’t want to see him.

Eventually, after I’ve been in bed for what feels like a week, I feel a little life in me one day.

Benny comes in with a tray like usual, and he’s prepared to leave but I say, “Benny, do you think you can do me a favor?”

“Anything, Isobel.”

“Do you think you can get me an espresso? I’d like to wake up.”

He smiles and leaves the room quickly, probably anxious to tell Tristan that I’ve come around.

I get up and slip out of my clothes. I walk around his master suite naked. I pull on Tristan’s oversized robe and go to the window and draw open the curtains—but the light of day is too much at this point. I shut them quickly.

Benny comes back in with a cappuccino, and I take it gratefully.

“Thanks. I’m gonna take a bath,” I tell him.

“Tristan bought you something. It’s on the bed,” he says before leaving.

I drink my cappuccino and think about Tristan. Being in love with him like this is a problem.

I can’t get away from him—nor do I want to. We’re permanently united, and it feels good but scary and intense all the same. I know I can’t stay mad at him, even for this.

I run the bath and walk out to the master suite to see a large box on the bed.

I open it, and there’s a red slip dress inside. He knows I love to wear stuff like this.

There’s also a pair of red-soled black leather heels, and I can’t help but smile.

Fashion will do that to a girl, especially after a week of grieving.

I go back to his en-suite and slip into the bath. I make it warm, almost tepid, like my feelings. I don’t know how to feel anymore. I just lost Theo—and yet I’m still in love with Tristan.

I float in the water, wondering again what it feels like to die. I could just sink underneath the bubbles, and it could be all over.

Why is death constantly swimming in my mind?

I know it comes with the territory of being a Capulet, but still, is this normal?

In the end, I decide it’s because of my upbringing. I’ve been surrounded by death my entire life, if not directly, then by association. I know my father’s a crime lord.

And yet I have hope for the future. Maybe I can escape this life. Maybe I can live like a normal person and not have to be surrounded by crime and murder for the rest of my days.

I get out of the bath and brush my hair. I oil my body and leave my face makeup-free.

Then I go to Tristan’s gift. I slip into the heels. I pull the red slip dress over my head.

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