Page 21

It’s not enough.

No matter how hard I scrub, or how much steam fills my lungs, I can’t ignore this new reality.

Liam is back in the auction.

Water streams between my fingers as I drag a hand down my face. The nausea may have passed, but the finality of his reinstatement aches in my throat. Of course, I’d choose him over the others, but to admit that, even to myself, feels like another betrayal.

I focus on the rhythm of my breaths, and by the time I shut off the water, my skin is flushed. I wrap myself in a robe and return to the bedroom, where the scent of fresh-baked bread and eggs reach my nose.

Liam stands next to the small table by the balcony doors, pouring tea into a delicate cup. “I thought this might help.” He gestures at the food.

“Thank you.” I sit across from him and choose a croissant from the tray.

He’s downright haggard as he watches me eat with the same stoicism that puts Mr. Bordeaux’s disposition to shame.

“Please say something,” I plead after I can’t take the roar of his silence anymore.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. Something…anything. Just stop looking at me like that.”

“How am I looking at you?”

“I don’t know, but it’s unsettling.”

“Unsettling?” His voice is tight, pulled like a rope on the verge of snapping. “You almost threw yourself off a cliff last night. How am I supposed to look at you?”

As my face burns, I set the half-eaten croissant back on the plate. “I didn’t mean to do it.”

Any of it. Wishing him dead, trying to end my life, or letting him inside my body.

“Whether you meant to or not, it doesn’t change the fact that you almost did.” His words slice through me like a scalpel. “And I’m supposed to hand you over to Oliver like I’m not terrified you’ll try again?” Clearing his throat, he drags a hand through his coppery hair. “Tell me, Novalee, after almost losing you to that cliff, how am I supposed to let you out of my sight?”

“I’m sorry, I…” The apology falters on my tongue.

“Sorry doesn’t cover it.” He shakes his head, voice cracking. “What if I’d shown up thirty seconds later?”

“It won’t happen again.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes.” Except I have no idea how to make him believe it when I don’t even trust myself. “I won’t leave you like that.”

The gravity of his stare softens, though disquiet remains. I pick at what’s left of my croissant, take a couple bites of eggs, sip the tea he poured for me, but my appetite is as absent now as it was yesterday. I push my plate aside, barely touched.

“You need to eat more,” Liam insists.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care.” His attention sweeps over me, lingering on the sharp angles of my collarbone. “You’ve lost too much weight.”

My weight means nothing to me, and the croissant tastes like nothing as I tear off another piece and chew. I swallow, then force down a bite of eggs, if only to smooth the worry between his brows.

But he’s still frowning. “I’m serious. You need to take better care of yourself.”

Biting back a snort, I set my cup down, fingers tightening around the porcelain. The tea does little to settle my nerves—not with just a few hours left before my well-being is no longer Liam’s concern.

“Is he kind?” The question tumbles out before I can stop it.