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“Léonie, Léonie, forgive me.”

His hands were on my face, searching my eyes with his wild dark ones as he kissed me, and I could feel, taste, touch him after being denied for so long.

But I didn’t want him anymore. No matter what my muscle memory felt like.

So I shoved him away with all my might.

“You thought you were so sure of me. That you could do whatever you wanted and I’d come begging for one single crumb of your attention. But you can’t.”

Étienne reached out for a lock of my red hair, his hand almost shaking.

If I didn’t know that was absolutely impossible. . .

“No, chérie, you’re wrong. I’m the one here begging. I’m here promising you that I’ve always loved you so much. I just fucked up bad.”

I came home with him.

Of course I did. I would have done anything for Hugo.

But my reception there was hardly warm.

Placidie was standing like a beautiful, frozen statue, a look of cold disdain on her face, Faustine beside her, eyes wide.

“What is she doing here?” Faustine squeaked out, and Étienne bared his teeth like something feral.

“What are my wife and child doing here? That should be obvious. They belong here with me.”

“And—Hugo?” Placidie bit me.

“Hello, Mme,” Hugo said in a low voice.

I felt a flame of pride in him that he was meeting her face to face—as a free man this time.

“He’s free to visit here anytime—as my guest,” I said.

“Étienne, what has gotten into you?” she cried. “Why—why can’t you see her for who she is? How can a woman who forces you to shame yourself be good?”

“I know what I see,” Étienne snapped. “I see a woman who I will go through fire for. Who I will never wrong again. Do not ever speak badly of her or you will no longer be living under this roof.”

“But—"

“I wronged my wife. Even if she’d slept with all of my brothers, it would have been nothing to how I whored myself out to greed and selfishness. That is all. What did I tell you, Mme, before I married her?”

There was silence.

“What did I tell you?”

Two spots of scarlet burned in her cheeks.

“You said nothing on earth would keep you from making Léonie Pinoteaux you wife.”

“And?”

“That you would move mountains for her.”

“Thank you. Let us speak no more of this matter.”

“Your brother’s weakness⁠—”