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Theo waits for me to acknowledge what he said before continuing.
“So, I have decided to contact your father and ask for a meeting, to discuss the best way forward.”
No, no, no, no.
For a moment, the world drops out from under me. My vision blurs and bile rises in my throat.
“I think I’ve found a way to approach this so it would seem favorable for your father to agree to our union and not lash out.”
Theo continues speaking, oblivious to the eruption of emotions currently warring in my mind. Of everything that could have happened, this is definitely one of the worst things.
Now, not only does my father know everything and has had time to stew in my betrayal and the disappointment that I will never be something he can use for his benefit, but Theo is planning on walking right into the line of fire, exactly where my father wants him to carry out every one of his threats. And maybe so much more.
Not for the first time tonight, my feelings for Theo rise in my chest. A warmth for the man in front of me spreads through my limbs, my body all but floating as I listen to him explain his plans to tell my father about our marriage. Because I had asked him to.
He had taken what I had said to heart and put some serious thought into how he could make it happen. Surely this should be proof enough that he loves me too, should it not?
Surely, how far he is willing to go, and how many boundaries he is breaking should mean he truly thinks of me as his wife, and not just someone he coerced into marrying him.
Theo seems to be willing to walk into the proverbial lion’s den to ensure the safety of me and his child. But given what I know now, it would be a suicide mission, and there is no telling what my father will do.
And then, as much as I would want to deny it, I would be responsible for Theo’s death. Not directly, of course, but I would have played a rather big part in it. That would be much worse than being responsible for my father’s death, although both are relatively unsavory. It is this thought that inevitably spurs me to speak.
“You can’t go.”
The words are out before I have time to think about what a bad idea it could be to say them.
Silence ensues, and when I sneak a peek at Theo, his stormy gaze is fixed on me. “What do you mean, I can’t go?” he grinds out.
“What I mean is, maybe you should wait before doing anything just yet, and think about it a bit more.”
It likely sounds as if I have lost my mind. That is how much sense what I am saying makes—no sense at all.
Theo obviously thinks the same because he rapidly blinks a few times before shaking his head.
“I do not understand. A few short days ago, you were intent that I find a way to tell your father. In fact, you insisted on it. You said if I loved you, I would make it happen. While my men have been looking for the person who sent the note threatening to expose us, I have been thinking of the best way to phrase what has happened between us to ensure the least amount of backlash and the most favorable outcome.” He throws up his hands. “And now, what? Have you grown a conscience that I should be aware of?”
I shake my head. “No, that’s not the reason. I just think—”
“What?” Theo interjects. “What thoughts are running through your mind that have got you backpedaling faster than I can contemplate my next move?”
I realize it is now or never. Either I tell Theo everything, or he will follow through with his plans. And then I might lose him forever. “I received a letter from my father.”
Theo freezes, his frame going rigid and the color draining from his face. “What?”
“Well, I received four letters, actually. Not all at once, obviously. But over the last few weeks. And two in the last two days. I wanted to tell you. I should have told you. But I wasn’t sure what to make of them at first, and I didn’t think they held any weight. I thought it was just my father making his displeasure about things not going his way known.”
I’m rambling. The words flow out like verbal diarrhea, and I can only hope they string together to form coherent sentences.
“But then today, I received photos as well—”
“Photos?” Theo cuts me off.
I wring my hands in my lap. “Yes, photos of us around the house.” I swallow thickly. “There were messages on them. I won’t bore you with the details, but some of them were very unpleasurable.”
Through all of this, Theo is mostly quiet. His hands are balled into fists, and his jaw works furiously.
Eventually, I can’t take it anymore.
