Page 70 of Striking
We both sit silently for a few minutes.
Neither of us speaking.
Until he does.“Are you happy, B?” I see it coming before he opens his mouth, and I can’t stop it no matter how much I wish I could. “Do you love him?”
Do I love him?
“Daddy...” Molly screams as she runs into the room and jumps on his lap, I think kneeing him in the nuts in the process.
Oh, sweet girl. You just slid right into my favorite niece slot.
“Jake said he’s a better hockey player than me because he’s a boy.”
Oh shit.
Those are fighting words in our family.
She turns and looks at me, then waves. “Hi, Aunt B. Can you come see my school concert next week?”
And there goes my heart.
Damn.
“I can’t, Molls. But your mom and I are planning for you to come see me soon.” This is the part that sucks. I’ve never been so far from my family before, and I miss them like I’d miss a limb. “You tell Jake girls can play hockey just as good as boys, okay? Tell him Aunt B said so. I’ve got to go, but I love you.”
Ares narrows his eyes at me.
He knows what I just did.
He just doesn’t know why.
By the time Rhys walks into our private residence on the third floor of the palace that night, I’ve already replayed my conversation with my brother over in my mind about a million times. Those should have been easy questions to answer.
Am I happy?
Do I love my husband?
Easy questions for an easy marriage.
But nothing about Rhys and me has ever been easy to understand. Not this insane pull we have to one another. Not the way my heart settles and feels like it’s at home with him in a way it’s never done before. Not in my excitement to talk to him at the end of every day. Not just to tell him about whatever thing I’ve done that day, but to listen to him tell me about his day as well.
My life used to make sense.
I was a nurse, working toward a goal.
I had a purpose I understood and a world where I fit in.
Now, I feel like I’m winging it. I’m fighting to find ways to make a difference in the lives of an entire country. Going to charity events and hosting teas. Putting together a staff for the humanitarian side of the foundation and meeting with volunteers and businesspeople to get everything in place.
The Murmurshared a poll last week where people overwhelmingly voted that they thought Rhys should be allowed to overturn the Royal Marriages Act. And their articles haveseemed to be trending more and more in my favor with each new headline. For now, I’ll count that as a win.
Rhys tosses his jacket to the couch, loosens his tie, and rolls up his sleeves, giving me a peek at the ink wrapping around those muscled arms I love to lie in each night. As if sensing my thoughts, he leans over me, forcing my head up until his lips brush over mine.
I sink my hands into his hair and drag him closer.
Getting lost in the mindless moment.
In his taste and his touch.
