“That’s not what I… Morgan, what happened? Was it something I did? Something I said?”
“You did nothing wrong.”
“Then why are you acting like you can’t stand to be near me?”
Finally, he looked at her. And the anguish in his eyes took her breath away.
“Because I can’t,” he said quietly.
“What?” Eliza whispered.
Morgan stood, pacing to the window. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. Any of this. Our marriage was supposed to be… practical. A solution to a problem. I was supposed to protect you, provide for you, and maintain an appropriate distance.”
“Appropriate distance?” Eliza’s voice rose. “Morgan, we’ve been sharing a bed for weeks. We’ve… we’ve been happy. Or at least I thought we were.”
“That’s the problem!” He whirled to face her, his composure cracking. “I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. I wasn’t supposed to care this much. When I saw that blade at your throat, when I thought…” His voice broke. “I can’t do this, Eliza. I’m not built for it.”
“Built for what? For loving me?”
“Yes!” The word exploded from him. “I can’t love you like this. It’s too much. It’s consuming. It terrifies me.”
Eliza felt tears burning behind her eyes. “So, what are you saying? You want to end our marriage?”
“No. I’m saying we need to establish proper boundaries. Live as many married couples of our station do. Separate lives, separate bedrooms. Cordial but distant.”
“I. Don’t. Want. That.”
“What you want isn’t the point.”
“Then what is the point, Morgan?” Her voice shook with anger and hurt. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re running away. Just like you ran from Cecilia’s rejection, just like you’ve run from every deep feeling you’ve ever had.”
His jaw tightened. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it? You’re so terrified of being hurt again that you’d rather hurt me first. Push me away before I can leave you.”
“I’m trying to protect you!”
“From what? From loving you? From being bloody happy?” Eliza moved closer, desperate to make him understand. “I’m not going anywhere. I chose you. I choose you every day.”
“You shouldn’t.” His voice was ragged. “You deserve better than this. Better than a man who’s too broken to give you what you need.”
“You’re not broken!”
“I am!” He slammed his hand against the bookshelf, making her jump. “Don’t you see? Caring for you this much, it’s not sustainable. It makes me reckless. Desperate. When Whitfield had that blade to your throat, I would have burned the world down to save you. That kind of feeling…it’s dangerous, Eliza. It makes me weak.”
“It makes you human,” she said softly.
“It makes me vulnerable.” He turned away. “And I can’t, no I won’t live like that. I’m constantly terrified that something will happen to you. That I’ll lose you. That this happiness we’ve built will be ripped away.”
“So instead, you’ll destroy it yourself? That’s your solution?”
Morgan was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was carefully controlled once more. It set Eliza’s blood on fire.
“I want you to be safe. To live the life your parents took from you. To be free,” he said smoothly.
“I am free. With you.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not in the way you need. Not in the way you deserve.”
