He smiled a painful smile, then pulled away from her comforting touch and exited the drawing room without any response. He had built a wall around his heart, remembering the cautionary tale of his own family. The perils of intimacy were not even to be considered as something he might allow for himself. The only option was a marriage of convenience, and now, he had obtained that goal. Everything was ideal… or it should be.
Only, he could not understand why he was so bothered by Phyllis’ behavior. He should be indifferent to whatever she said or did, yet he was not. Her sudden change of behavior left him stunned, and her aloofness kept poking at the sorest spots in his mind. He could not understand her, and it was driving him mad.
He endeavored to explain it reasonably. He needed to understand her in order for this marriage of convenience to function as it ought to. It was true that they both had certain expectations, and she had changed hers so drastically that he had no idea what to make of it.
He sat down at his writing desk in his study, pouring himself a drink. The amber liquid swirled around in the glass, the ice clinking to create a soothing melody. The first sip soothed him beyond description. He had always been a man of a clear mind, but now, he wanted something to dull it. He took another sip, the warmth scratching down his throat as if he had swallowed a burning log.
But that burning was still far less painful than the burning inside his own heart.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Afew days had passed, and Phyllis was tasked with writing down a list of all the people her father wanted to invite for the wedding. Despite the duke’s initial idea of it being a small ceremony, her father had intervened and managed to convince him to have something larger.
In all honesty, Phyllis didn’t care. She had stopped caring the moment her life as she knew it ended, which was when her father had given his consent to the duke to marry her. Everything ended at that moment. Everything she had ever cared about lost meaning. She felt stripped off of something, something vital, something she would never get back. Her heart was still nursing wounds inflicted by this marriage, and she knew that it would be a long time before she was back to her old self… if such a thing ever happened.
Just as she lifted the quill pen from the paper which already possessed quite a long list, a knock on the door interrupted her flow of thought.
“Yes?” she called out, momentarily focused on the intruder.
The door opened ever so slightly, only to reveal Joyce. Phyllis’ heart clenched. It was the pinnacle of anguish to be under the same roof with her sister, while actively trying to avoid her. It was almost impossible, although she did her best to eat meals in her room, feigning lightheadedness. Several days had passed in this hellish limbo, which seemed to have been equally difficult for both sisters. In fact, Phyllis was certain that this was as torturous to Joyce as it was to her. But she could not give in. Something inside of her refused to forgive, for the very simple reason that the consequences were all-encompassing.
“May I come in?” Joyce wondered. Phyllis was about to tell her that she was busy, which in all honesty would have been a lie. She could have easily paused with her list, as it was not urgent. But before she could utter those words, Joyce continued. “I have something important to share.”
Phyllis swallowed heavily. The pain in her sister’s voice won over. “Come in,” she told her.
Joyce did as she was bid, walking slowly as if every step was measured through quicksand, and one wrong move might mean her demise. Finally, she stood before her sister, trembling barely perceptibly. Phyllis was devastated that the two of them, who had always been so close, were now torn apart. But she could not bring herself to wrap her arms around her sister and tell her that all was forgiven. Something was preventing her from doing so.
“The viscount was just here,” Joyce continued, her voice on the verge of breaking. The duality of what she was saying was palpable. It brought her so much joy, but an incredible amount of anguish as well. “He came to ask Father for my hand, and… Father agreed.”
“Congratulations,” Phyllis said, her eyes narrowing at her sister. She loved her beyond description, but the anguish of being sentenced to a life she had never wanted for herself was driving her insane with rage.
“Phyllis, please…” Joyce unexpectedly grabbed Phyllis by the hand. The movement was so sudden that Phyllis didn’t even have any time to pull away from her sister, but rather allowed this touch. “You have no idea how much pain all of this is causing me. The very knowledge that this is all my fault is tearing me apart. I know I can never undo what I have done, and I also know that no matter how many times I apologize, it won’t change anything. Words don’t have the power to heal. Only actions do, and mine have shown that I do not care about you, but I do… I really do… I would rather give my both eyes than see you suffer like this…”
Upon those words, she burst into a fit of tears, letting go of Phyllis’ hand and dropping down to her knees. Phyllis herself was still angry, but she was not made of stone. She had a heart which she had been shielding all of her life. Only, she didn’t know that she was supposed to shield it from her family as well, from those she loved the most. Now, seeing her sister in this desperate state, she couldn’t remain immune any longer.
Gently, she placed her hands on Joyce’s shoulders and helped her up. Joyce was still sobbing silently, tears streaming down her face, but neither of the two sisters said anything. Silently, Phyllis led her to the bed, where she sat her down. Then, she turned around, quickly finding what she was looking for. With a deep inhale, she poured her sister a glass of water from the glass pitcher and offered it to her.
Joyce lifted her gaze. For a moment, the sobs ceased. Her cheeks glistened with wetted trails, symbols of her inner anguish. Phyllis’ heart was breaking, not just for herself, but for them both.Maybe this wasn’t their fault at all,she thought. The situation was thus, and they were pushed into it, as if a pair of invisible hand had shoved them into an abyss just as they were peering into it, standing on the brink.
“Drink this,” she said tenderly, banishing those negative thoughts from her mind.
Obediently as only a loving younger sister could, Joyce accepted the professed glass and took a few sips. Moments later, she seemed slightly pacified. But there was only so much a glass of water could do.
“Better?” Phyllis asked.
“A little,” Joyce nodded. “Thank you.”
Phyllis sat down by her side, both sisters gazing at the window in front of them, neither daring to turn and face the other. Seconds felt like hours, ticking away, seeping from the palms of their hands like fine grains of sand. Phyllis felt an avalanche of words forming a ball inside her throat. So many unspoken words that she wanted to share with her sister, but she was unable to force any of them out.
“I know you can probably never forgive me…” Joyce spoke first. “But know that I will never forgive myself for losing you. No one matters to me as much as you do, Phyllis. Not Father, not the viscount, not anyone.”
She got up to go, but Phyllis grabbed her by the hand. Joyce stopped. Their gazes locked. Tension lingered between them for a moment, but Phyllis’ heart made the final decision.
“I… I don’t want to lose you either, Joyce,” she managed to muster, her anger finally allowing her heart to say what it wanted to say. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose…”
“I would never,” Joyce admitted hastily. “Never, never, Phyllis. I just… I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You were in love,” Phyllis smiled, her heart finally freed from the venomous talons of fear and rage. “Youarein love.”
