Page 14 of Complete Me

“Protect me?” she guessed with a sigh. “You aren’t. You’re protecting yourself. Maybe you think I’ll be angry or maybe you don’t really trust me. Honestly, trying to figure out why you keep secrets is exhausting. I didn’t marry you to have secrets between us.”

“I won’t ask you to carry them.”

“Don’t you see?” she asked in a weary voice. “You don’t have a choice. We’re in this together. I can’t imagine telling you that I don’t need your help.”

“You do all the time,” I said dryly.

“But you’re still there, helping me,” she corrected. “It’s what we do. Distance doesn’t work for us. We might as well try to be abstinent. It will go over about as well as you keep secrets. You don’t have to carry your burdens alone, and I don’t want you to. That’s what I was offering you tonight. All of me. You want to protect me, but when will you see that I want to protect you?”

It took all my resolve not to gather her in my arms and carry her to our bed. I’d overstepped a line tonight and I wouldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability in this moment. Especially given that I couldn’t tell her what she asked of me. “Some secrets aren’t mine to share.”

“Then there’s our problem. All of me is yours to share.” A sob wrenched from her and she shook her head. “At least, it was.”

“Clara, please—” I couldn’t stop myself from reaching for her then.

“Don’t!” She pulled back. “Not tonight. I’ll get over it. I’ll learn to live with it. Tonight, I need to be alone with the truth.”

“What truth?” I dared to ask, even though I didn’t want to know.

“That I let myself be swept into the fairytale,” she murmured. “I fell under your spell. I let myself believe in happily ever after. I swallowed a pretty story because I fell in love.”

“It isn’t a fairy tale. This is real.” I moved toward her, but she darted past me. “Clara, we’re real.”

She paused at the door and turned sad eyes on me. “Maybe we were.”

6

Scotland

The tree would never do. It had been delivered from the village earlier this week, and there were far too many scraggly patches that revealed its crooked brown limbs. No amount of ornaments or decorations could hide that fact. On the off chance that his grandmother decided to join them for the holidays this year, she would send it back immediately, but that wasn’t what concerned him. This Christmas had to be perfect. The family had eschewed tradition last year and stayed in London for the holidays. Elizabeth was still a newborn and there had been the chaos surrounding Belle and Smith—knocking off to Scotland hadn’t been a priority. That meant this was David’s first year celebrating with him at Balmoral, and since Edward hadn’t given him a wedding yet, he could give him a proper Christmas morning.

That was easier said than done, given how hard David was pushing back against his preparations.

Strong arms wrapped around his waist as he studied the tree, and he felt David’s chin drop to his shoulder. “It’s fine.”

“It’s ugly. What will Belle and Clara say?” He knew David had a soft spot for his best friends, and he wasn’t above using it to his advantage.

“They’ll be too busy worshiping their husbands to notice,” he promised.

David had a point, but Edward didn’t miss the edge to his words. Both Clara and Belle had husbands to command their attention; David did not. Maybe he was less obsessed with the perfect Christmas as he was with distracting him from that fact. He hadn’t been able to explain to David why he’d continued to push back their wedding date. Just as David didn’t know nearly enough about the events that transpired a year ago. Edward had kept the secret out of respect for his friends, but also under the command of his brother.

“I thought we came earlier to be alone,” David said pointedly.

“We are alone,” he snapped, and David pulled away.

“Alone together, not separately. I can’t help but think you’ve dragged the whole of England’s problems with us.”

Maybe he had. Edward had brought the Royal Family’s problems at least.

“You’ve been distracted.” David stepped closer, frustration blazing in his eyes. “I’ve been understanding, but you can’t keep avoiding your own life.”

“I know that you—”

“This isn’t about me,” David interrupted. “I’m not making threats or ultimatums. Although Christ knows that I should be. I’m simply pointing out that you’re only hurting yourself.”

They both knew that wasn’t true. “And you.”

“All things considered, you’ve come out of the closet, declared your love for me, and upset hundreds of years of tradition just by proposing to me. I shouldn’t expect any more miracles in such a short time frame.”