“That’s okay,” she chirped from behind him. “My daddy used to say bad words when the cows got out.”
A chunk of my heart cracked away.
This little girl—this innocent soul—had just lost her parents. And here I was, throwing a tantrum, screaming at demons, acting like I had the luxury of reckless emotion.
I swallowed against the fresh wave of shame.
“I’ll bet he apologized to you when he did that, didn’t he?” My gaze locked onto Malik’s, searching for anything beneath the storm raging in his eyes.
He didn’t answer.
He only watched me, his expression unreadable, his fingers still ghosting over my throat like he memorized my feel.
Rosie’s soft footsteps padded across the floor.
Then—
Tiny arms wrapped around the back of my legs.
Just a hug.
Small. Simple.
But it destroyed me.
A sob tore from my chest as tears spilled freely down my cheeks.
Malik released my throat.
“I’m just so frustrated,” I admitted. “I miss my husband. I’m still exhausted from our journey. I could sleep for days, but it still wouldn’t be enough. And all I want are answers.”
I dragged a shaky hand through my hair. “I need something to hold onto, some shred of hope or encouragement. Something…”
Fat, wet tears slid down my cheeks.
Malik’s expression shifted. The hard edges of his face softened, his emerald eyes melting into pools of liquid jade.
“Meet me in my study in thirty minutes.” His voice was lower now, almost gentle. Then, without another word, he turned to Rosie, resting a large, careful hand on her head.
“Thank you for dining with me,” he said. “Now, will you go see Cook?”
Rosie beamed, gazing up at him with pure adoration.
“Uh-huh!” she chirped, nodding before heading toward the kitchen.
Malik pivoted on his heel and departed, his presence vanishing as swiftly as a shadow slipping through candlelight.
I staggered back into my chair, collapsing onto it.
Fuck, what was wrong with me?
Emily rushed to my side, her brows drawn together in concern. “Oh, Olivia, are you all right?”
I let out a weak, breathless laugh. “I honestly don’t know.”
I propped my elbows onto the table and buried my face in my hands.
“I should be grateful for his hospitality,” I muttered. “But I feel like he crawls inside my head and twists everything—makes me question everything. I don’t like that feeling.”
