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“You are angry,” he said with great calm, a perfect contrast to the anger that surged through her. “Perhaps we can speak of this another time when you have calmed down?”

“There will be no other time. I am your wife, and it is time you started treating me as such. For all your talk of doing the right thing so as not to cause a scandal, how do you think it will look if people find out the way I have been treated? The wayyouhave treatedme!”

Benedict closed his eyes tightly and rubbed them, and she could see him trying to control his temper.

Selina had not meant to come in here angry, but that was the state of things, and there was little to be done about it now. Benedict, however, was responding to her anger with a forced calmness that she was grateful for.

“All I have done is give you space,” he tried to explain, forcing himself not to look at her. “After these past few days, I thought you might need it.”

“You have avoided me on purpose,” she snapped. “And I do not know why.”

“To think,” he tried.

“To think about what!” She threw her hands in the air, her anger not abating. “As much as neither of us wish it, we are married now, Benedict. It has happened, and avoiding the topic will not make it go away.”

“It is not so simple as that, although I wish it was.”

“It is!” She went for him without thinking. He took a step back, and she stopped. “It seems that all we do is fight, but that is not how things have to be.”

“Is that right?” His laughter sounded genuine. “So far, that seems to be the norm.”

She laughed too, softening, thankfully. “It does not have to be. I can… I am not always this hostile.”

He chuckled again. “And I am not always this moody.”

Sensing a shift in the atmosphere, she dared to walk closer. And Benedict, sensing it too, dared to look at her.

“Neither of us wished for this marriage,” he began.

“That seems irrelevant now.”

He shook his head. “It does not have to be. You might wish for it to work, but that does not mean that you want it—and do not lie to me and tell me otherwise. If you had a choice, you would happily run away and pretend it never happened.” He met her eyes. “Tell me I am wrong.”

She opened her mouth to argue but then bit her tongue and looked away. “I am just trying to make the best of what we have.”

And that was the truth. Did Selina with for this marriage? Of course not! What she had always wanted, since she was a little girl, was a love match. Romance. Happiness. All those wonderful things that she had read about in stories. This situation, this entire marriage, was as far removed from that as possible.

But she was also a realist. She knew that there was nothing to be done and was thus determined to make the best of a bad situation. Or, in this case, a tragic one.

Benedict nodded, but he did not look upset. With a deep sigh, he walked to the bed and sat down. There, he patted the space beside him. Selina frowned as if she did not understand, and he rolled his eyes.

“Come here.”

“Why?”

“Because there is something we need to discuss.”

She hesitated further, her eyes darting from his half-naked body to the bed and then around the room. It was as if she was just now realizing that they were alone, the anger gone but the heat still simmering such that her body was flushed and her heart was still racing.

“I can… here is fine,” she mumbled.

“Come. Here.” It was not a question, but a demand.

She winced but acquiesced. Slowly, she slunk toward the bed and then, even more slowly, sat down. Although she did so away from him, careful not to get too close.

He looked pointedly at her. She attempted to do the same. A raised eyebrow, as if to challenge him.

“What?” she asked stubbornly. “You asked me to sit.”