The sun was hot in the afternoon, darkening the roses to a more insistent red. I had spent my morning in our small sanctuary—pinching off dead blooms, coaxing new ones into existence—and yet, one e-mail from Nathaniel Carter had left every petal bearing memories of a past that I could not seem to forget. And now, cutting the last stem and carrying them in a basket among them, I could feel the old restlessness churning in my chest. It was a constant constant feeling that made my heart ache painfully.
I had brought in the flowers from the beautiful garden in to the dining area, where Caspian sat at his desk scanning over a report with all the seriousness his dark eyes could muster. His broad shoulders were drawn into a tight posture, and from behind, I could see by the tension in the angle of his jaw.
"Hey," I whispered, putting down the basket of flowers on the table. "I thought these would brighten the room and bring in freshness."
He looked up at me, his black eyes clashing with mine in a breath-stopping manner. He stood from the chair and took the distance between us, his eyes fastened on mine. "They're beautiful," he said to me in a flirty way, his voice husky and low. "Just like you."
A flush went right through me, but it was followed by the pain of guilt. I'd been silent all morning—tormented by one conversation I still hadn't had with him.
Caspian touched my hair, a strand of it falling back behind my ear. "What are you thinking?" he asked, his eyes looking and they felt razor sharp..
I took a slow breath. "Nathaniel," I admitted with fear in my heart because I dreaded how he was going to react m. "He messaged again."
His face twisted and clouded, and I braced for the familiar surge of protectiveness. He reached out for me, his arm around my waist. "What did you say to him?"
I avoided his eye. "He's. he's trying to make me doubt us."
His jaw hardened. "What did he say?"
I stood up to his glare. "He told me you came to me because you were scared. That you never loved me, but you wanted me to keep you safe.He also said that you were a person devoid of any emotional feeling and that it is only a matter of time before you show me your true colors.”
Caspian said nothing for a moment. Our unspoken horrors closed in, the room shrinking away like a storm on the horizon. Unshed tears etched my eyes—not for me, but because the words I uttered had shaken him so completely that it felt like he had just been hit with an unstoppable force.
"I'm sorry," I said with guilt in my heart. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
He took a step back, the stiffness of tension in the line of his shoulders. "It does hurt," he addressed me in a low tone. "Because I do know it is not true, but hearing you say it, me imaging it saying it to you, hurts very much. I don’t really know how to feel about this whole mess.”
I reached out and took his hand. "You know that I love you," I said to him, sobbing. "I chose you—every day, a thousand times. It’s just that Nathaniel has a way with words and he knows how to cut deep.”
He looked at our joined hands like he had never seen them in his life. "Do you?" he asked, his voice small. "Do you really think that? Do you really love me the way you say it.”
My heart folded in two. "Yes," I said obstinately. "I know it to the very marrow of my bones."
Caspian's eyes roamed over mine, tormented. "Then fight him with me," he said to me, his voice rough. "For the more often I see those cracks in your faith, the more I feel as though I am losing you to him and I don’t know how I am going to survive when that happens.”
I gulped hard, his words choking me. "I will not allow him to drive us apart," I promised myself and tried hard to believe the promise..
He closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me. His blue eyes gentled as he leaned into me, his forehead against mine. "You're my anchor," he breathed. "Never forget that."
Later that evening, in terrace we sat on the balcony, long shadows creeping across the stone from the dying light. Caspian had filled glasses for both of us with wine. The initial sip was cold, almost knife-edge—a reassuring contrast to the vibration still running between us.
He set his glass aside and looked at me. "I need to know," he said. "Tell me again what you're feeling. Tell me you are not falling for him all over again please.”
I was crouched at the far end of the bench. "It's not what he says," I explained. "It's how he said it—with the unspoken assumption that he still owns half of me and the way he says it makes me doubt things. It made me think of nasty things: endless nights wondering if I had made a mistake, the guilt of having got on with it."
Caspian's intense eyes never wavered. He dropped to his knees before me, his fingers intertwined with mine. "Lily, look at me," he breathed.
My gaze locked with his. That was when I realized the extent of his love— ferocious, obstinate, and vulnerable. "I see you," I whispered with every tenderness I could muster.
He inhaled slowly. "I want you to know that each step you took from him was a step in my direction. Each question you asked, each tear you cried—those were mine. You never had to be alone. I have always been with you through every trail and challenge, please do not ever forget that whenever he tries to plant in the seed of doubt in you.”