Page 86
Story: The Duke and the Wrong Bride
“You’re leaving?” Henry blurted out.
Her body went stiff. For a moment, she looked ahead as if she might ignore him—he thought that was what she was doing. But then slowly she turned around, expression determined.
“Greetings.”
“You’re leaving?” he said again, taking another step into the room but not going to her.
“You noticed?”
“Not the castle,” he said, waving his arm as if angry. “The country? You’re leaving the country?”
“I am,” she said simply. She stood with her hands folded before her, her eyes looking everywhere but at him.
“And when did you plan on telling me?” he asked, a tinge of anger in his voice that he didn’t mean for but appeared, nonetheless.
She frowned and cocked her head. “I didn’t know that I had to.”
“You are my wife,” he said. “We are still married.”
“Oh, so you remember?”
He frowned at that. “What does that mean?”
“It’s been nearly two weeks since I last heard from you,” she spoke slowly and carefully, choosing each word precisely. “Two weeks since… since I left.”
“Yes, since you left.”
“And since you didn’t try and stop me.”
He opened his mouth to argue the point, only to realize that he had nothing to say. Nothing that made sense, anyhow. He closed his mouth, but he tried to meet her eyes, wishing she would look at him. But she refused, bowing her head, clearly doing everything in her power to avoid meeting his gaze.
“I thought you would come back…” he offered, his voice soft as if he hoped she might not hear.
“You gave me no reason to.”
“We’re married,” he said again, as if that meant something. “Is that not reason enough?”
Finally, she looked at him. Forcing her head up, she met his eyes, and he winced to see the pain and hurt in them. “No, it’s not. It never was. And the fact that you do not know that…” She lowered her head again. “That was why I did not return.”
He didn’t know how to respond. Oh, he knew what he should have said. He knew what she wanted to hear. But to say it out loud? To admit to his true feelings? Henry hated that he was still holding back, that he felt he still had to. If there was one person in the world who he should have been able to be honest with, it was Charlotte.
But he froze. Staring at her. Wanting to go to her, to take her, to wrap himself around her and hold her and never let go again. This may have started as a marriage of convenience, but it had transformed into something more. All he needed to do was say it.
She scoffed lightly and shook her head. “Good luck, Henry. With everything…” Head still down, she walked right past him.
“Wait!” Henry forced himself to call after her. “Please!”
She stopped but didn’t turn around. “Why?” she said softly. “Why should I wait? What’s the point in waiting?”
“I don’t want you to go…” He half reached for her.
“Why not?”
He moved to speak but again, found himself unable to form the words. The right ones, anyway. “I miss you.”
“I need more than that,” she said, back still to him.
“I… I want you to come back. To move back in with me.” His heart was pounding in his chest, and he’d never felt so nervous.
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