He sets down his mug and grabs his jacket, and I can see the tension in every line of his body. "I should go," he says. "Flynn will be here soon."
I swallow hard. "Okay."
He heads for the door, and I should just let him leave. Should let him run from whatever this is between us without saying anything more. But I can't stop myself.
"Sean?"
He turns, and for just a moment, I see something vulnerable in his expression before it shutters closed.
"Be careful," I say softly.
He nods tersely. "Always am."
And then he's gone, and I'm alone in his apartment with cooling coffee and the overwhelming feeling that I'm losing a battle I don't even understand.
—
Flynn arrivestwenty minutes later with more pastries and a sympathetic expression that tells me he knows exactly what happened last night. Or rather, what didn't happen.
"Morning, Maeve," he says, setting the pastries on the counter. "You look like you need these."
I grimace, taking a sip of my now-cold coffee. "That bad?"
"Let's just say you and Sean are both terrible at hiding your feelings." He grins. "Which is funny, because you're both convinced you're hiding them brilliantly."
I don't know how to respond to that, so I just take a pastry and bite into it without tasting it.
Flynn settles onto the couch. "He'll have to come around eventually, you know. He's just fighting himself."
"Maybe he shouldn't have to come around," I say quietly. "Maybe this marriage really is just... what it is. An arrangement."
"He's at the Council now," Flynn continues. "Asking for help with this situation. Once that's dealt with, maybe he'll stop being such an idiot."
"And if he doesn't?"
Flynn lets out a breath. “Hell, I don’t know,” he admits. “It’s a hell of a situation to be in. But you’re a smart girl. And Sean’s no pushover, whatever barrel the Council thinks they have him over. You’ll figure it out.”
The words should be comforting, but they just make me feel hollow. Because the truth is, I want things to be different. Despite everything—despite Sean's walls and his coldness and his insistence that wanting me is a mistake—I want to find out what could happen if we had something more akin to a real marriage.
Deep down, I want to find out what it might be like to fall for my husband.
But if I did, I’m not sure he’d catch me.
—
An hour passes.Then another. Flynn makes phone calls in Gaelic, his voice low and serious. I try to read a book I found on Sean's shelf, but I can't focus on the words. When the door finally opens, I look up expecting to see Sean relaxed, the meeting over. Instead, he looks tense and angry, his jaw tight.
"What happened?" I ask, standing abruptly, the book dropping from my hand onto the floor with athunkthat makes me flinch.
"They want to see you." His voice is carefully controlled, but I can hear the fury underneath. "I'm sorry. I tried to argue, but they insisted."
My stomach drops. "The Council wants to see me?"
Sean nods tersely. "Yes."
"Why?"
"To assess the situation." He moves closer, and his hand comes up like he wants to touch me but doesn't. "I won't let them hurt you, Maeve. But they asked, and I can't refuse them."
