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I don’t reach for her. Reaching for her would undo every word I just said. She has to believe I don’t want her. Because if she knows the truth, she’ll fight for me, and fighting for me will destroy her.

And I’m not fucking worth it. I did this.

It isn’t the first time. I’ve watched the light dim behind a woman’s eyes before, one day at a time until there was nothing left, because I couldn’t make her happy. I told myself I could fix it. I came home one afternoon and found⁠—

I shut the memories out.

That’s what will happen to her if this continues. I have to get out of the way so she can just be with Ryker. I know he’ll take care of her.

I pick her up and carry her to her bed because I can’t leave her on the couch like that. I clean her with a warm cloth and pull the covers over her and press my lips against her forehead. My hand finds her throat, gentle, and her pulse beats slow and steady under my thumb.

I can’t let the Council take her. And I can’t keep doing this to her. But I also can’t tell her why. I refuse to make Ryker and myself relive that nightmare.

She’ll hate me tomorrow. The fire will come back as rage. Rage I can take. Rage means she’s still in there. But if she goes quiet the way my wife did, then I’ve done the one thing I swore I’d never do again.

I’ll make sure she hates me so she has something to keep the fire going.

I love her enough to make fucking sure of it.

Chapter Ten

Laine

Two days. That’s how long it takes for Rhett Bradley to go from being the man I love to a fucking stranger.

I’ve been sent back to my own fucking bed and he hardly acknowledges my existence. I heard him telling Ryker that he’s bought a house for Ryker and me to live in after the wedding. As if kicking us out is going to make me forget him or what I fucking want.

I wake up wet for him every morning. My body doesn’t know we’re over. My body still aches in all the places he trained to ache for him. I’m going through withdrawal from the man, and the pathetic part is that I’d still let him fuck me. I’d spread my legs and call him Daddy and pretend he didn’t rip out my heart two nights ago, because I still fucking love the asshole.

For the first day, I hid out in my room, but now I refuse to make this easy on him. I find him in the kitchen drinking his coffee and reading his phone. He doesn’t look up when I walk in. Two days ago he would have pulled me into his lap and had his fingers inside me before I could even pour a mug.

I walk over, take the phone out of his hand, and set it face down on the counter. He looks at me, and his expression is patient and blank. It makes me want to throw his coffee in his face and then fall to my knees and beg him to touch me. I’m furious and desperate at the same time, and I hate that he can still make me feel both.

“Rhett. Are you going to keep this shit up, or are you going to talk to me?”

“I’m not ignoring you. I’m drinking my coffee.”

“You haven’t touched me in two days.” My voice cracks on the last word and I hate myself for it.

“You’re marrying my son.” His tone indicates that the statement should say everything. Like he didn’t fuck my mouth while Ryker fucked me two nights ago.

I cross my arms because if I don’t hold myself together, I’m going to reach for him and kiss his dumb lips. “That didn’t stop you before.”

“It should have.” He picks up his coffee and takes a sip as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Things got out of hand. I let it go too far. That’s on me for playing on your emotions.”

“Out of fucking hand.” I repeat it, because hearing him reduce the best couple weeks of my life to some kind of goddamn mistake makes me want to put my fist through his face. “You fucked me in every room of this house. You kissed me like you couldn’t breathe without me. You held me every night and called me your good girl. And now you’re telling me it got out of hand?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t flinch. “That’s exactly what I’m fucking telling you.”

“You’re a fucking liar, Rhett.” My eyes burn, and I blink it back.

Something moves behind his eyes. Just for a second. But if it was there, it’s gone now.

“The wedding is in less than three weeks.” He focuses back on his phone. “I’ve already notified the Council.”

He’s talking about this farce of a wedding while I’m standing here with my chest split open. I want to scream at him. I want to climb into his lap and grind against his cock until his body betrays every lie coming out of his mouth. I want to call him Daddy and watch his resolve crumble the way it always does.

But the look on his face tells me it won’t work. He’s locked down so tight. The man I love doesn’t even exist behind those blue eyes anymore.