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But I’d rather have Brynn than marry Sloane Whitley, even with all the benefits that come with her.
It’s hard to imagine Sloane still wanting to marry me once I tell her that, but the truth is, she may not have a choice at this point. She may have picked me out of the available Blue Bloods, but once the deal was struck, it was a done deal for both of us. Even if she wanted out of it now, I doubt her father would allow it.
He’s made too much of an investment in me at this point, and his daughter’s enduring happiness is pretty far down his priority list.
We’re both stuck in this deal, whether I decide to make us miserable about it or not.
I know that, logically, but I still find myself wanting to further fuck myself by telling Sloane just how little interest I have in being with her.
But before I can utter a single syllable, I notice her gaze drift to my bedroom door.
And my heart sinks as I turn because I already know what I’m going to see.
I feel a surge of pointless hope that she’ll have just woken up. She’ll be sleepy and confused, but she won’t have heard a word we just said.
But then I see her face.
And I can practically hear her heart breaking.
And I know… she fucking heard everything.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Brynn
I can’t breathe again.
I’m so tired of not being able to breathe.
But it’s different this time. Worse. I’m frozen. I can’t even swallow. It’s like when I got kidnapped and they jabbed me with that needle that made my body stop functioning, but this time the jab was… verbal. Unimaginable.
It can’t be real.
Maybe this is a nightmare.
I’m still asleep, and Killian is in bed next to me. I’ll wake up, and he’ll be there, and this…
Maybe none of this is real.
It feels real, though.
I make a slight wheezing noise as I draw in and release a few shaky breaths.
“Brynn,” he says softly, and my composure breaks like a fractured dam, emotion welling up and spilling over, tearing apart the obstruction that once stood in the way.
My voice comes out in a strangled whisper, sounding like my throat is full of gravel. “You’re engaged?”
“Not exactly. It’s complicated.”
I shake my head. “Not really. It’s a yes or no question, Killian. Are you marrying her?”
My heart already feels ripped down the middle, but it wasn’t a clean break and one piece dangles from the other, held together by a single thread of increasingly fraying hope.
His silence is so loud.
If it’s a no, he would say that.
Silence can only mean yes.
