Chapter 167 Confessions
When William was about to confront the most frightening demon of his past. Luke sat on the edge of the bed, his back a rigid wall of muscle and resentment.
After years, the past he tried to conceal began to revive. His mind constantly recalling what happened, piercing his heart too much.
As he was sulking in his room, the door creaked open and Peach emerged. Her gaze softened, utterly consumed by the desire to redeem the mistakes she made.
He didn't look at her. He didn't have to. He could feel her presence and the dejection emitting from it. The woman who had once been his ruin, and was now his wife, seeking a chance to fix what she once shattered in spur of jealousy.
After a brief contemplation, she breathed out, “You are right, Luke… I destroy what I cannot have. I was envious of the love you received. I wanted to take it away.”
Luke’s body stiffened. He knew that but hearing her accepting it penetrated an arrow through his chest.
Peach approached with hesitant steps, the usual click of her heels replaced by a soft thud on the carpet.
The unshakable Peach, the woman who had orchestrated his suspension, just like her every other rival she had destroyed and watched the downfall with a smile, was gone.
Slowly, almost painfully, she sank between his legs, her hands resting on his knee with an unexpected tear.
“But I am doing all this because I want redemption, to redeem. This is no longer a trick or an attempt to break you.”
Luke’s hand slowly lifted, resting under her cheek with the same sorrow, “How can I believe you, Peach? I… I can no longer trust you or your words.
"Luke," she whispered, her voice crackling, tightening her grip on him powerlessly.
"I know 'sorry' is a pathetic word. It doesn't fix the humiliation or the trust I shatter I took from you. It doesn't fix my nature either."
Luke remained motionless. His gaze shifted away. He was in a turmoil of his own too. He wanted to forgive but the tear of getting his heart broken again pulled him back.
"By the time I realized that I loved you more than I hated everything else in this world," She choked out, tears spilling out.
Lowering her head to rest it on his knees. Luke sat stunned. For the first time, she accepted it sincerely.
"It was already too late. I had already lost you. I tried so hard to win your heart… But please... just give me a chance to be the one who helps you rebuild away from every pain."
The resonance of her hopeless confession echoed in the room. The silence stretched into a suffocating one. Luke didn’t know how to react as her tears soaked his trouser.
“I love you, Luke, give me a chance to prove it. I won’t hurt you, I will heal your every scar but don’t… abandon me like my father did.”
The sound hit him before, a painful, ugly sob. It wasn't the practiced, delicate crying she used to manipulate people. It was the sound of someone truly breaking.
Luke froze. His hand hovered above her head. He closed his eyes, a flicker of the man he used to be- the one who cared too much- softening the anger.
He couldn’t bear the wailing sound and held her chin, lifting it up strictly. She sniffed, staring innocently at him as he wiped her tears.
He looked down at her, reduced to a trembling heap on the floor, confessing her love and seeking forgiveness.
"Get up,"
Peach didn't move, her head bowed in shame.
Luke sighed, He reached down, his fingers hooking under her elbows to steady her and lifted her up from the ground.
"Get up, Peach. I don't like seeing my unbreakable bride on the ground."
He pulled her to her feet, though he kept a careful distance between their hearts. He looked into her tear-stained eyes, his expression a complication of hurt and reluctant protection.
"If you are going to stand by me," he murmured, "You will need your pride. Don't leave it on the floor."
Before she could utter another sound, Luke walked away, unsure what to do anymore.
Later that moment, Luke and Peach had no choice but to attend an event to make up for the threat Peach gave for disrespecting her husband.
She didn’t want to come, her heart was heavy today. She wasn’t in the mood yet Luke made her wear pink as they emerged, gaining the attention instantly.
A group of socialites leaned in nearby, their whispers poorly disguised by the music.
"Look at them," a woman sneered, "Married by name, but look at her. Still an owner.”
“Peach doesn't know how to love, she only knows how to claim, steal, or destroy. You can’t build a home on a foundation of ruins."
Peach, who would usually seal their lips, was too exhausted to react.
The confession and his silence had taken a hefty toll on her immaculate image she spent years building. Luke noticed her silence and before it could affect her image, he stepped forth to defend her.
"My wife knows exactly which skills she should master," Luke enunciated.
“If you are suggesting she is still an expert at destroying..." He tilted his head, a dark smirk playing on his lips.
"Then by all means, continue speaking. Be our guest and see it firsthand. I’m sure she would love to volunteer."
The group turned pale, the woman who had spoken quickly hiding behind her fan before they scurried away into the crowd. They knew to not mess with the Spoiled Princess.
Peach looked up at Luke, her breath hitching, for the first time she was protected. She learned how to protect herself years ago, but to be protected a new level of pride.
He didn't look down at her, but his hand stayed firmly on her back, pressing her firmly against him.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Don't thank me," he muttered, his eyes still scanning the room. "You are my wife. Your respect is my respect."
Peach couldn’t help but to let out a feeble chuckle. Her hands wrapped around his arm, resting her head on his shoulder.
Across the room, standing near the balcony, was Peach’s father. He had watched the entire exchange with a drink forgotten in his hand.
He was convinced that Luke would eventually retaliate or that Peach would simply wither away in a house where she wasn't wanted.
But as he saw his daughter, the girl who had always been sharp-edged, finding peace against her husband’s shoulder, his grip on his glass relaxed.
He had seen her ‘claim’ things her whole life. He had seen her ‘steal’ victories. But he had never seen her look protected.
‘Maybe, it wasn't a wrong choice after all.’ he thought, a slow nod of respect directed toward Luke, ‘Maybe that was all my daughter ever wanted…’