She nodded slowly. “I saw. I am… grateful, not for my own sake, but for that of my mother. It would have crushed her if I had been raked across the coals.”
“It would have crushed me too,” he insisted, taking a half step forward. At the same moment, the door handle turned, and he jumped to catch it, pressing himself back against the door. “I am not lying when I say I was in torment, Olivia.”
She shrugged. “I did not say you were.”
“Even during the days where I thought youmightbe part of my father’s plan,” he continued, “I could not cease thinking of you, wishing I had let you speak, wishing you would have said something that convinced me your affection was real. And when I realized what a prized idiot I had been, and that you were entirely innocent, the torture was like… nothing I have ever experienced. I would take a thousand beatings with my father’s cane over the pain of realizing I had just shattered any hope I had of happiness, of love, of… standing proudly at your side.”
Tears pricked Olivia’s eyes, forcing her to turn her face away. “But I confessed to you, Evan,” she whispered thickly. “I promised my heart to you, and you stomped on it. You doubted me before we had even begun our journey together, and after I had fought so hard to resist falling in love with you.”
“I know, and I am sorry,” he urged. “When it comes to my father, I am overwhelmed with a kind of madness. I cannot explain it. He is a sickness, and I become delirious whenever I am near him. I took leave of my senses, and it grates at my very soul that I cannot undo it.” His breath caught, and Olivia found herself holding hers. “You were the first precious thing to come into my life in years, and I let him win. I let him make me small and weak and cowardly again.”
Olivia forced herself to exhale. “You are not entirely to blame.”
“Pardon?”
She met his sorrowful gaze. “If I had not said there was something I needed to say before we proceeded, you might not have had that seed of doubt in your mind.”
“Do not say that,” he replied, shaking his head with a vengeance. “You did nothing wrong. I am to blame. I am at fault for not putting the ghosts of my past to rest. I am at fault for not seeing what my heart knew—that you were innocent—before I let that old sickness sweep through me again.”
They stared at one another in a passionate, painful silence, as the breeze rushed in from the gardens, like it wished to carry Olivia to the man she had fallen in love with.
“But, if I may,” Evan ventured, “can I ask what youweregoing to say?”
Olivia fidgeted with the ribbon at her waist. “I was going to tell you the story ofmyfather. I was going to tell you that life with me would not always be easy, because there is a part of me that also finds it difficult to trust. Ironic, really. But I suppose I did not want you to be surprised when we had our first quarrel, or when my mood changed, or if our joy was tested. I wanted to be honest about myself.”
“That is all?” A strange sound, part-cough, part-laugh, escaped his throat.
Olivia nodded. “Silly, now that I think of it. After all, if we have not been through the worst already, then perhaps it is better for us to be apart.”
She had meant her words partially in jest, but as a crestfallen expression fell across his face, and his shoulders slumped, her heart cursed her for her lack of compassion. Clearly, he had wounded himself by abandoning her. Clearly, he had suffered just as much as she had, throughout their separation. To tell him that there was no hope, even teasing, seemed so very cruel.
“I love you, Olivia,” he told her, his eyes glimmering with tears. “I love you beyond reason. I love you with everything I possess, but if you cannot forgive me, that fleeting moment of bliss that I have had with you will both feed and starve me for eternity.”
“Evan, I—” she began, but he cut her off.
“I know I deserve nothing from you, but I do not care if this match was made by my father, I do not care about anything but being at your side,” he went on. “I will do anything to earn back the trust that I squandered. Just, do not say that it is the end for us. Give me one more chance, and I swear I shall never leave you in any doubt of my love.”
A tear escaped Olivia’s eye, coursing down her cheek like a feeble caress. The earnestness and desperate hope in his voice was enough to melt even the most frozen heart, but hers had already begun to thaw the moment he had begun to read his letter, speaking aloud, “My dearest Olivia…”
“Are we not both too broken for this?” she asked, genuinely needing an answer. “Are we not too troubled for love? Indeed, if this is our beginning, what will the rest of our lives look like?”
Evan pushed away from the door and hesitated, likely expecting Olivia’s friends to burst in. But no sound came from the hallway outside, beyond the quietest sniffle. Someone was crying.
Anna,Olivia guessed.
“Or, we could consider it this way,” he said, walking toward her. “If this is our beginning, we can survive anything that might threaten our happiness. After all, when we met, you did not want marriage and neither did I. You tried to discourage me, as I hoped my reputation might discourage you, yet we fell for one another. I thought we would never meet again after the last word you wrote upon that note in the square, but fate—or, rather, my aunt—brought us both here tonight. If that is not a sign that we are meant to be together, I shall have to have strong words with the heavens themselves.”
Olivia’s heart fluttered wildly as he closed the gap between them, taking hold of her hands and bringing both to his lips, kissing each in turn. It was a bold risk that could have given him a slap, but as she felt the pressure of his mouth through the silk of her gloves, any lingering anger dissipated.
She caught her breath. “You knew I was trying to discourage you?”
“You are many things, my love, but you are not a gifted thespian,” he replied. “Your eyes—they betray your true character every time.”
“And what are they saying now?” She gazed up at him.
He smiled. “For the first time since meeting you, I cannot read them, nor would I dare to guess what you are feeling.” He rested one of her palms upon his chest. “But read my heart and know that every word I am saying is the truth.”
He slipped his hand beneath his tailcoat lapels and brought something out into the silvery moonlight. Olivia frowned at it, taking a moment to realize what it was. The petals had withered slightly, the stem crooked, the yellow center losing some of its vitality, but it was, indeed, the same daisy that she had slipped behind his ear when they had played skittles.
