Despite her pain, Thalia made sure to smile as she went. It hurt, being treated like that. And it broke her just a little bit to think that the duke had already moved on from her. But at least she had managed to save his relationship with Olivia. That was something, at least.
Not a victory by any stretch… but the most that she could hope for.
Thalia returned home the following day to the sound of laughter.
As promised, she spent the morning in town, even going so far as to inform Olivia before leaving that the duke would be looking after her while she was gone. She had wondered if she should do such a thing; that vague chance that the duke would fall through on his promise.
And Olivia had been so darn excited about the prospect of finally seeing the duke that Thalia’s heart cracked inside her chest because she loved seeing her daughter that elated… and she feared the inevitable heartbreak when it all came crashing down.
The sounds of laughter were a tonic, heard from the front of the castle, but coming from the back. Thalia allowed herself a hopeful smile as she walked around the building, the sounds of laughter growing, and happiness swelling inside her chest with each step taken.
The scene she stumbled upon was like something out of a dream.
It was nothing crazy. Nothing too exciting. It was just that of Olivia, running around the back garden, and the duke chasing her as if he was a monster bent on her destruction. He roared as he chased, she cried out and giggled as she ran, and Thalia struggled to remember a time she had seen her daughter so happy.
It was a two-sided coin.
One side was relief, because when she watched Ronan playing with Olivia, she knew that it had been the right decision to approach him. For all his faults, he cared for the little girl and would continue to do so. That was what mattered.
The other side was the realization of her own feelings. Thalia wanted to move on from the duke. She wanted to forget how much she cared for him. She wanted to leave behind that kiss as if it never happened. She wanted… truly, it did not matter what she wanted, because it wasn’t going to be that easy.
Thalia still had deep feelings for her husband, and they weren’t going to go away. In truth, she didn’t want them to. She wanted what she had felt. She wanted him to return them—to admit to them fully. She wanted this life, but with the duke in it. But wanting wasn’t going to change anything.
It was up to Ronan to accept how he felt and then act on it. It was on him to stop running and stand up for his true feelings. It washim who had to pull down those walls and step over them fully and finally so there would be no going back.
Until he did such a thing… all Thalia could do was wait. But how long would it take? How much more rejection could she suffer? She did not know the answer, just that it would be the hardest thing she ever had to do.
She and Ronan were married, and this marriage could be so much more. If only Ronan would accept it…
Twenty-Three
It was a strange thing to look forward to returning home, but Ronan had to admit that was exactly how he felt. There was still that fear that lived inside of him. Still that awkwardness that came whenever he considered who he shared that home with and how he needed to avoid her. Still the pain and shame that came whenever he pictured Thalia’s face and how he had hurt her.
That won’t be leaving me anytime soon, nor do I want it to. Despite everything, I still care deeply for my wife, and there is a part of me that needs to hold onto that, if for no other reason than to remind myself such a thing is possible.
But Thalia wasn’t the reason he looked forward to returning home. That reason was Olivia.
He had almost forgotten the sense of joy he felt when he spent time with her. How she looked up to him. The way she admired him. And the sheer sense of happiness she seemed to take fromlittle more than being around him. She did not see him as a monster. She did not have a reason to fear him. The love she felt was real, and Ronan relished it.
Perhaps in time he and Thalia could find a sense of comfort around one another. Not love. Not romance. But able to be in the same room, able to control their urges, while admitting that the state their marriage had come to was for the best.
That would take some time, he knew. And for now, it was Olivia he chose to focus on.
So it was that Ronan wore what might have equated to a smile as he made his way toward his carriage. It had been a long day spent in London, meeting with clients so he could settle some old lease agreements that had been in danger of being cancelled before his wedding. But his marriage had achieved the necessary changes of his reputation, and slowly, the respect that his name demanded was returning.
His carriage sat at the end of the road, and he waved to the driver to signal that he would be ready to leave as soon as he climbed inside. Only then, stepping around the carriage, was a face he hoped to have never seen again.
Ronan snarled openly, not caring how it might look. Indeed, he hoped it would be enough to scare the man off. The last thing Ronan needed right now was added drama… and punching a man in the face would undoubtedly bring that.
“Your Grace…” Lord Westmere smiled to see him coming. “What a pleasure it is to see you again.”
“Somehow, I doubt that very much,” Ronan said darkly.
He came to a stop before Lord Westmere, careful not to get too close. His hands turned to fists and it took more control than he knew he had not to punch the man in the nose as he had done the last time.
Oh… how I want to, if for no other reason than to wipe the smirk off his face.
“It depends on where one is standing,” Lord Westmere said, still smirking to himself. “Better here than from the ground, that is for sure.”
