Page 71 of Bittersweet & Strange

“Comfortable in my monotony. I woke at the same time every morning. I tended the greenhouses, maintained the castle, hunted when I needed meat, ate alone, and went to bed.” His expression barely changes as he speaks, but his fingers flex once at his side. “Then I woke up and did it again. Nothing changed from one day to the next. I preferred it that way.”

He looks toward the open door, then at me again. “There was nothing to anticipate. Nothing to miss. Nothing I could lose.”

I don’t know what to say to that.

“Then you came here.”

The room goes quiet around us, leaving nothing to distract me from what he’s saying.

“I know what it’s like to hear you laughing in my greenhouse now. I know what it feels like when you put your hand in mine without being told to do it. I know you like cherries and that you smile when you talk about your father.” His expression hardens. “I know what it’s like to sit at your feet and listen to you tell me stories. I didn’t know any of those things existed for me until you.”

He’s not done yet, so I don’t say anything.

“Now I do.” His eyes remain on mine. “And the thought of losing them is unbearable.”

My lips part, but nothing comes out. This is Rhys. The man who answers questions with silence. The man who snarls when I get too close to anything that resembles emotion. Yet he stands in front of me now looking almost uncomfortable with everything he’s forcing himself to say.

“It isn’t fair,” he continues. “To want you this badly while diminishing everything that makes you the person I’ve fallen so deeply in love with.”

My heart gives one painful thud.

Love.

I search his face for something that tells me I misunderstood him, but there’s nothing there except Rhys staring back at me.

He steps closer.

I don’t retreat.

His hand rises slowly enough that I could move away if I wanted to, but I don’t. His palm settles against my cheek, and his thumb brushes once under my eye.

“This knowledge comes at an incredible cost for me,” he says. “The thought of you wishing yourself dead simply to get away from me is something I cannot tolerate. Neither is wondering whether I’ll leave you alone one day and return to find you’ve taken your own life.”

His thumb stops moving, and there is something in his face I have never seen directed at me.

Fear.

He draws in a slow breath. “It’s enough that I’ll let you go.”

I stare at him.

“Let…” I swallow, struggling to get the rest out. “Let me go?”

He nods.

“I’ll leave you in the village in your father’s care. I’ll purchase what I need and return home.” His hand remains against my cheek for another moment, then he lowers it. “You will stay behind.”

I stare at him without blinking.

There’s no condition attached. No demand that I return in a week. No warning about what will happen if I tell anyone where I’ve been.

He’s letting me go.

After months of begging, crying, fighting and trying to escape, I finally have exactly what I wanted. I should be moving already. I should be pulling on my sweater and boots. I should be asking how quickly we can leave. I should be terrified that if I stand here too long, he’ll change his mind.

Instead, I can’t move.

Rhys turns away from me and reaches for the candle sitting nearby. Dawn has crept through the window while we’ve been talking, leaving enough pale light in the room that the flame is unnecessary. He pinches it out without hesitation. He isn’t one to waste anything. Not food. Not firewood. Not even an inch of wax.