He couldn’t... and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on.
“I know.”
“I won’t grieve you again.”
“You’ll never have to.”
She snorted. “Still so arrogant. That, at least, hasn’t changed. Do not make promises you cannot keep.”
He smiled faintly. “You’ve always enjoyed futile attempts to prove me wrong.”
That earned him a sharp glance. “Don’t you dare charm me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, though his voice had softened. “You’re far too clever to be charmed, and I’m far too spent to attempt it.”
Her gaze traced his face, and for a moment, compassion flitted across her expression, and he thought she might reach for him. She didn’t. “You look dreadful.”
He chuckled. “I feel worse.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, apparently in spite of herself. “Then you shouldn’t be here.”
He should have stepped back, given her space, but his boots seemed planted to the rug. The faint scent of soap reached him, though he couldn’t tell what kind. Even so, it felt familiar, disarming. The years fell away and for a moment, they were only Giles and Liss again. Innocent. Hopeful. Expectant. The world they had once known had changed, yes. Butshestill made him want.
What would a life with her have looked like if the stars had aligned differently? Could it still look the same? Even if just a little bit?
“I should probably find a bed,” he admitted. “But I can’t seem to move.” He wanted to keep staring at her. Found that despite the past, despite being away for twelve years, he wanted everything. Everything she might not be prepared to give.
And he had no bloody idea what to do about it.
He hadn’t changed.
Much.
That was the most maddening part.
Oh, he looked older, of course, sharper around the jaw, more dangerous around the eyes, but Theodore Giles Bishop still had that same charged intensity about him, the same unreadable steadiness that had once made her feel seen. Made her feel valued. Her body had reacted before her mind had made sense of it—because it was him.
Older now. Broader. More self-assured.
But she wasn’t that girl anymore.
The girl who had foolishly dreamed of first and last love, happy endings, and forever afters. Giles had taught her this. Taught her what it felt like to dream of the future, and what it cost to lose it.
This woman, thisher, could not afford the cost anymore.
Not when so much had happened in between all the years apart. Not while she stood at the brink of ruin, threatening shame upon her family. Shame—for her actions—that they did not deserve. And now here he stood. Whole. Handsome even with the face of a man who wanted to retch. Still in possession of all the power to sway her.
Honestly, how could this be considered fair? How memory and presence could overlap so cruelly. She had spent years forcing herself to forget him, only for him to step back into her life in such a thorough fashion.
Her throat felt too tight, her spine too stiff. She didn’t trust herself to respond to his last statement. Not being able to move? Was he teasing her or being serious? If the corner of his lips served as an indication, then he was teasing. If the gathering beads of sweat on his brow were another, then he was more likely serious. Either way, she was at a loss for words. And yet, some foolish, forgotten part of her stirred at the prospect of this man teasing her.
It made her furious.
A little terrified.
She couldn’t let either show. Men were like bloodhounds when it came to weakness. Hadn’t she learned that the hardest way for a lady to learn?
Alyssia lifted her chin and made one thing abundantly clear to him. “This will be a marriage of convenienceonly. If you cannot agree to this condition, then I cannot marry you.”
