Her heart had been irrevocably captivated by him, entangled in a web of love that only deepened her despair. Within the confines of her room, Bridget was enveloped by a melancholic silence of her thoughts and realizations.
The walls were all that bore witness to tears that slid down her cheeks, her heartache echoing through the empty space. Her thoughts were consumed by the memories of their stolen glances, heated conversations, and, of course, their kiss.
Each passing moment, knowing he was likely moving further away from her, felt like an eternity as she yearned for his presence, his voice, and his touch once more.
As the hours had turned into days, her solitude became her refuge. The world outside her door faded into insignificance, for she was lost in the labyrinth of her own emotions.
She longed for a distraction from her thoughts of Abel. Always in low moments like these, when her heart was heavy with problems, she yearned for the presence of a friend.
It saddened her deeply that she lacked companionship in life, and it caused the heaviness she felt to double. She desperately wished for someone to come and disrupt her solitude, even if just for a moment.
In the depths of her despair, Bridget’s gaze drifted to the window, yearning for a sign of life beyond the confines of her room. She found herself wishing for Hector to burst through the door, whisking her away on one of his spontaneous adventures, as he usually would.
He usually ended up being her respite when she had heavy thoughts that tormented her. But alas, this time she was truly all alone. Hector had been sent on an errand by their father, leaving her to face her emotions alone.
The room felt suffocating, the silence deafening with every minute that went by. She clutched her chest, as if trying to hold the shattered pieces of her heart together as memories of the days before accosted her.
The air had been heavy with anticipation when Bridget had summoned the courage to confront Abel after dinner the night before his imminent departure.
She wondered if she had done the right thing by going to him. As the tears streamed down her face, she replayed the moment in her mind, shame and pain swirling like mixed paint inside her.
She’d spotted him the night after the wedding, his tall and imposing figure approaching her in the dimly lit hallway. Without hesitating, she’d then stepped in front of him and spoke before he could get a word out.
“Your Grace,” she said, her voice demanding and edged with anger as she glared up at him, “we must finish our conversation before you leave.”
Abel, his eyes avoiding hers, replied in a weary tone, “Lady Bridget, I am tired. It is late, and I must retire for the night. There are matters I must attend to after my departure on the morrow.”
Bridget’s confusion and hurt surged within her like a tempest. She was not ready to let him escape without addressing her concerns.
Determined to change his mind at most, she demanded again, “Look at me, Your Grace. Look into my eyes and tell me the truth. How can you leave so abruptly? Have I done something to drive you away?”
Abel’s brow furrowed as his eyes bored into hers. “Lady Bridget?—”
But Bridget could tell he was about to repeat his excuse of having to go to sleep early.
“Please, Your Grace. Talk to me.” Her eyes pleaded as he averted his gaze again.
There was a moment of silence, pregnant with tension, then he sighed heavily and reluctantly met her gaze. The eyes Bridgetliked to remember as filled with warmth and tenderness now seemed distant and glazed. Her heart sank, fearing the worst.
Abel’s voice was tinged with a mix of frustration and resignation as he spoke, “You must remember and understand that there are always circumstances beyond our control in life, Lady Bridget.”
He paused, and his tone sounded reassuring as he added, “It is not a matter of you doing something wrong. Again, I have obligations that I must fulfill, responsibilities that cannot be ignored. This isn’t about you?—”
“Then why have you been ignoring me so?” she spat, her words laced with venom. “Why won’t you look at me?”
Her anger was palpable. There she was, begging him in the middle of an empty corridor. How had he managed to change her so much? How had she lost her way so much?
“You owe me an explanation,” she added. “I believe I deserve one.” She barely managed to keep her emotions in check.
Abel’s expression shifted, a flicker of care briefly illuminating his eyes. But just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by a nonchalant mask. With a tight tone, he spoke, his words carrying a coldness that pierced her heart.
“Everything between us is fine,” he uttered, his voice devoid of warmth or reassurance.
Bridget sneered. She was done begging him. If he was going to act like a petulant child and treat her like she had caught the plague, then she was not going to try to convince him further.
She had already acted contrary to her character and personality enough by begging for his attention. He could go. She had a life before the Duke came into the picture, after all.
“Fine,” she said in a clipped tone. “Good night.”
