Page 99 of Bound By Blood and Lies

It’s for them.

Is it?

I growl and drop my hands before scrubbing at my skin harder than I need to, like I can wash this feeling off me. The guilt has been sitting in me for weeks, but now it claws its way up my throat, sharp enough to choke on. A sob breaks free before I can stop it and I press my forehead against the cool tiles, squeezing my eyes shut. What am I supposed to do? If I don’t go through with this, Fiona is already too deep to walk away. If I do… Roman will see it for exactly what this is.

Betrayal.

I don’t know how long I stay there, but I step out once the shower goes cold. Wrapping a towel around me, I pull open drawers and grab something simple that won’t draw attention before drying my hair just enough that it doesn’t drip as I get dressed on autopilot. My movements feel distant and disconnected, like I’m watching myself go through the motions instead of actually being here. I pause, gripping the edge of the dresser as I steady my breathing. I force my shoulders back and lift my chin at my reflection. I don’t recognise the girl staring back at me, not fully, but I don’t have time to figure out who she is either.

The door opens behind me, and I freeze before turning and forcing a softer look onto my face. Roman steps inside. His heated eyes are on me instantly and goose pimples spread across my skin. I try to smile as wide as I can as I turn back to dry my hair. Roman leans back against the door after closing it, crossing one leg in front of the other.

“What are you doing?”

I shrug lightly as I reach for my hairbrush.

“Getting ready.”

“For what?” he presses, pushing himself off the door and moving toward me.

“Your mum’s taking me out,” I say, keeping my tone easy. “To dinner. Apparently, I need a break from you.”

His hand comes up and turns my face toward him. His eyes search mine and it makes my throat tighten as I lick my lips.

“Do you?” he murmurs.

“Always,” I tease. “You’re a lot to handle.”

A corner of his mouth lifts, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He studies me as he brushes his thumb lightly along my jaw, slower this time.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I murmur as I lean against his mouth. “I promise.”

He doesn’t move. I know, just from the way his hand tightens at my waist, that he doesn’t fully believe me.

“You’d tell me, right? You can tell me anything.” His voice drops to a whisper as he presses his lips to mine.

“I know,” I smile whilst a part of me dies inside because I can’t tell himanything. “This little one is just kicking my arse. Either that or Riggs’ hyperactivity over our wedding has drained me.”

Roman chuckles and steps back, but not before pulling the brush out of my hand. I smirk at him as his eyes sear into mine.

“Sit.”

“Yes, sir,” I sass and squeal as a large hand lands on my arse.

“Carry on and I’ll ban you from going out. We have more important things to do,” he says, running the brush through my hair.

“Yeah,” I breathe. “Like what?”

“Like you,” he winks and I giggle.

The tension eases as Roman’s hand slows in my hair, the brush gliding through the ends before he sets it aside and reaches for the hairdryer. Warm air fills the space between us as he dries it carefully, then, once it’s just right, he picks up the straighteners and runs them through with the same quiet focus he gives everything else. I smile, a real one this time. It’s one of his favourite things to do. It’s actually unfair when I think aboutit… why is he better at my hair than I am? At least if we have a daughter, he can take full responsibility for hers.

“You’ll be back soon?”

“Of course,” I say, turning toward him fully before lifting onto my toes to press a quick kiss. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“Impossible,” he mutters against my mouth.