“We have a honeymoon to get to,” she clarifies.
I stare at her. “You’re…going?”
“Yes.”
“With him?”
She lifts one brow. “That is generally how honeymoons work.”
I glance toward the hallway instinctively, half expecting Jason to storm in again. The memory of his fury is still hot in my chest. “I thought…” How do I even end that sentence?
I thought you understood that he’s a cheating asshole.
I thought you had more self-respect than this.
“You thought I’d call it off?” she asks.
“Yes.”
She studies me for a moment. “I considered it.”
“And?” I ask quietly.
“And he panicked. He thought he was losing control. He thought he was losing me.”
“And that makes it okay?” I press.
“It makes it understandable.”
I blink. “Faith. He’s not our father. You don’t need to be understanding about any of this.”
She steps into the room fully now, shutting the door behind her. “He wasn’t serious. He was freaking out about getting married. You know him.”
“I do,” I say flatly. “That’s why I don’t understand how you can forgive it.”
She tilts her head. “Because he wasn’t trying to get you back. He was trying to prove to himself he still could.”
“That’s worse,” I say.
“It’s pathetic,” she corrects.
The bluntness surprises me. “We can agree on that.”
“You don’t need to worry about me, Temperance. I don’t marry pathetic men without leverage.”
Damian watches this exchange with quiet intensity, saying nothing.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
Faith smiles faintly. “It means I’m not naive.”
“I can’t believe you’re just…fine,” I say.
“I’m notfine. I’m pragmatic.” She reaches for my hand briefly. “You don’t need to protect me from my husband’s stupidity.”
“I wasn’t trying to.”
“You were.” Her eyes soften slightly. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s not necessary.”
