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The first was to protect Bridget. The second was to resist her.
“Remember. In public, you’re my princess, but in private, you’re my whore.”
“Trust me, princess. I would rather end my own life than ask you to do anything that might hurt you.”
“You don’t get it. There is no happily ever after for us.” We weren’t a fairytale.
“I don’t need a happily ever after. I need to be by your side. I need you happy and healthy and safe. Goddammit Bridget, I need you. In any way I can have you.” His voice broke for the first time in all my years with him, and my heart cracked in response. “If you think I’m leaving you to deal with this bullshit alone, you don’t know me at all.”
“Don’t. Fucking. Say it.” “I’m marrying Steffan. He already agreed.” It wasn’t a marriage of love. It was a political contract. Nothing more, nothing less. Markus had reached out to the Holsteins yesterday and made them sign an NDA before making the proposition. They’d agreed a few hours later. It’d all happened so quickly it made my head spin.
“The fuck you are.” “Rhys, it’s done.” “No,” he said flatly. “What did I tell you in the gazebo, princess? I said from that point on, no other man touches you, and I meant it. You sure as fuck aren’t marrying someone else. We have nine months. We will figure. It. Out.”
“So we’re over. Just like that.”
No, not just like that. You’ll never know how much my heart is breaking right now.
“But someone once told me we always end up where we’re meant to be, and this is where I’m meant to be. With you.”
Because while what we had wasn’t a traditional fairytale by any means, it was ours. And it was forever.
