I face her again. "Because I loved you. Because I would have given up everything for you." The admission costs me something, leaves me feeling exposed in a way I haven't allowed myself to be since I was twenty-one and believed in things like love and loyalty.
"And then your family took everything from me. My parents. My home. My future. And in my mind, you became part of that betrayal because how could they have pulled it off otherwise? Because you didn’t warn me." My chest feels tight. "Hate is simpler than grief. I've been living on hate for a very long time."
I take a deep breath, steadying myself after this unexpected moment of vulnerability. "I want us to work together in this marriage, Keira. We can build something functional out of this arrangement. Something that benefits us both."
Her eyebrow arches skeptically. "By 'working together', you mean I comply with your demands while you parade me around as your trophy wife?"
"That's not what I meant." But even as I deny it, I recognize the truth in her words. "I need your cooperation?—"
"My compliance," she corrects sharply. "Let's call it what it is."
Frustration builds in my chest. "Fine. Yes, I need your compliance. But that doesn't mean we can't find common ground."
Her eyes flash with irritation. "Common ground? You humiliated me in front of your men and accused me of sneaking around to meet some imaginary lover. And I’ve taken it. I nearly sucked your dick in front of your men to appease your cruel need for revenge. What exactly is our common ground, Phoenix? What more do I need to do?"
Her words hit me like ice water.What am I doing? This isn't who I want to be. I don't want a submissive wife who fears me. I want…
The realization comes suddenly. I want what we had before. The partnership. The mutual respect. The trust. The love. Of course, none of that is possible now. Except maybe the partnership.
"Do you remember that summer day at the lake house?" I ask, my voice softening. "When we snuck away from both our families and spent the whole day just talking about what we wanted from life?"
Her expression softens, and it pleases me that at least her memories of us are sweet.
"You said you wanted to travel the world," I continue. "See places your parents would never approve of. And I promised I'd take you everywhere."
"I remember," she says quietly.
"I meant it then. Every word."
She looks at me, really looks at me, for what feels like the first time since I returned.
“I know you did. And I meant all the promises I made to you too. Those feelings didn't just disappear, Phoenix. They're still there, buried under everything else."
Hope blooms in my chest. "Then maybe?—"
"But so is everything you've done since you came back," she interrupts. "The threats. The accusations. You can't erase that by reminiscing about the past."
"Did you ever truly love me, Keira?" The question escapes before I can stop it.
Her eyes narrow. A flush spreads across her cheeks, not embarrassment, but anger.
"Did I love you?" Her voice trembles. "I loved you so much I couldn't breathe sometimes. I loved you when my parents locked me away to keep me from you. I loved you when I heard your family had been killed, when I thought you were dead." She steps closer, her finger jabbing toward my chest. "I loved you when I cried myself to sleep for months. I loved you when I had to learn how to live in a world where you didn't exist anymore."
The raw emotion in her voice strips away my defenses. This isn't the calculated response of someone who betrayed me. This is pure, unfiltered pain. And I know pain.
"Then why didn’t you warn me?” How could she not know something was up?
"I couldn't! They took everything from me—my phone, my freedom. I was a prisoner in my own home! Not much different from now.”
She turns away, wrapping her arms around herself. "Do you know what it's like to hear the person you love most in the world has been killed? To believe for ten years that they're gone forever? And then to have them show up and look at you with nothing but hatred?"
I want to reach for her, but my hands stay at my sides. "If you loved me so much, why didn't you leave after? Why stay with the family that destroyed mine?"
Something flickers across her face, hesitation, fear. It reminds me that she's holding something back.
"It wasn't that simple," she says finally.
"What does that mean? What could possibly keep you here with them?"
