Fucking hell, Meghan. I’m sorry.But the words feel hollow. Empty. Because part of me isn't sorry at all. Part of me wants to march into that bedroom and claim Hannah properly, make her mine in every way possible.
The thought sends another wave of self-loathing through me. I press my palms against my eyes until spots dance in the darkness.
Ten years. A decade of holding onto grief like armor, wearing it closer than my own skin. Using it to fuel every move against the Keans and to keep love away. And now Hannah storms in with her fierce spirit and determination, making me feel things I swore I'd never feel again.
The truth is, Meghan would hate what I've become, this cold, vengeful shell of a man. She’d feel pity that I’d closed my heart to love. That I simply existed, not lived my life. I don’t want to face it, but Meghan would be the first one telling me to open my heart again, to give Hannah a real chance.
But how do I honor one love while possibly developing feelings for another? The answer doesn’t come before sleep finally overtakes me.
My phone buzzes earlythe next morning while I’m brewing a cup of coffee, pretending my jerk off session last night was a dream.
My caller ID says it’s Phoenix. I step onto the balcony to take the call, leaving Hannah sleeping inside.
"We need to meet. Family dinner tonight," Phoenix says without preamble. "Bring Hannah."
"No." The response is automatic. I’ll meet with my brothers, but I’m not going to pretend we’re a big, happy family. Hannah and I don’t have what Flint and Lucy have, or Blaise and Jenna.
"Lucy and Jenna will be there. Could be good for Hannah to spend time with them."
I grip the railing, watching the city wake up below. “Stop trying to force this marriage to be something it’s not.”
“I’m not telling you to fuck her, Ash. I’m saying bring her. She shouldn't be cooped up in that hotel all day, anyway."
I’m about to refuse again when a thought hits me. If Hannah is busy with Lucy and Jenna, she won’t be around me. Tempting me. Making me hate myself for my lack of control around her.
"Fine," I growl. "What time?"
"Seven. And Ash? Try not to scowl the whole time. You're scaring the wives."
I hang up on him, but the idea takes root. Hannah needs friends in our world, people to occupy her time. The less attention she has for me, the easier it will be to maintain distance, to focus on what really matters, avenging my parents’ and Meghan’s deaths by destroying the Keans.
And if part of me aches at the thought of pushing her away… well, that's just proof that I need to do exactly that.
When Hannah exits the room, I’m both relieved and disappointed that she’s not in some skimpy nightgown. She’s fully dressed in jeans, a loose top, and ankle boots.
“We’re having dinner at Flint and Lucy’s tonight,” I inform her.
She watches me, and for a minute I think she’s going to chastise me for telling instead of asking her.
“Alright. Is it formal?”
I think I miss feisty Hannah.
“No. My brothers and I will meet, but it will be an opportunity for you to spend time with the wives. I figure that will be nice for you. They’re friendlier than me.”
She gives me a small smile and nods. I hate it. She’s patronizing me. No, she’s given up. Given in. Have I broken her?
“I hope they like me,” she says as she puts a coffee pod in the machine to brew herself a cup of coffee. It occurs to me that if I weren’t such a self-centered asshole, I’d have made it for her.
“I don’t know why they wouldn’t.”
She glances up at me, and while she doesn’t say anything, I feel certain she’s thinking,You don’t.
I want to make this better for her, to make being my wife less awful, but I don’t know how. Not without risking myself.
“I have to head out. Work. You have your full protection, so if you need to go out?—”
“I’m going to stay here and work on ordering things for the house. And call my tutor.”
