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I glance over at him, trying to prepare myself for the conversation I know we need to have.
“Morning.” I brush past him and into the bedroom, pulling on my silk robe before perching on the edge of my bed.
Christian takes one of the chairs from the other side of the room and pulls it over to the foot of the bed. “It’s time that we got whatever is going on out in the open. You said that you needed some time to think about things. Is that time over?”
I nod and cross my legs, picking at a loose thread on the duvet cover. “What do you want from this marriage?”
His eyebrows knit together.
Christian leans into the chair, crossing his legs at the ankle as he thinks about the question. He looks around the room, his gaze distant.
I don’t know where his mind is at with any of this, but I doubt that we’re thinking the same thing.
It seems like no matter how often we talk, we’re rarely on the same page even if I want us to be.
I’m hoping that this conversation finally aligns us, but my stomach twists and turns. I don’t know what to expect.
This is a conversation I’ve never had to have with anyone else.
“I never wanted a marriage,” Christian says, his voice gravelly as he finally looks back at me. He pins me in place with a stare that seems to see right through me. “I haven’t had the best track record with any relationship, so I’ve never given marriage much thought.”
“That’s the difference between us, then.”
I sit a little taller, trying to make it seem like I have myself together. “I thought that the person I married would love me. I thought that there would be a mutual sense of respect, and we would build a life together. When I think about marriage, I don’t think about being kidnapped and forced into it. You might have had your reasons, and I understand that they were good reasons, but I was still kidnapped.”
Christian cocks an eyebrow. “Do you really think that I don’t care about you at all? Are you going to sit here and really try to say that?”
My pulse pounds as I look out the window.
People patrol the property, guns in their hands and fierce looks on their faces. Since the attack at the party, there have been more people than ever around.
“Do you really care about me?” I ask, hating the way my voice wavers.
I’m not an insecure woman at all, but I’m not sure that his answer is going to be yes. “Because I keep feeling like I’m falling for you, and there’s nothing but hurt waiting for me at the end of it.”
Christian sucks in a sharp breath. “If I didn’t care for you, I wouldn’t have built you a studio. I wouldn’t spend two nights a week in a bar to watch you perform. I certainly wouldn’t tell you to start acting like a cartel wife. My wife. So, yes, Zoe, I do care for you.”
My heart skips a beat as I stare at him. I don’t know how to react.
In my wildest dreams, I didn’t think that Christian would ever admit that he cares for me.
Warmth spreads through me, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say. My mouth goes dry as I exhale slowly.
Caring about me is amazing, but what about the monster? Can this be enough for me to be able to live with it?
“I don’t think there’s a world in which this marriage is going to survive. I don’t know how to mesh the two parts of you together when they are both very different people. I don’t know how to be the cartel wife and the singer. How am I supposed to go on tour and have my personal life invaded when there is all of this that I have to keep a secret?”
Christian leans forward, bracing his forearms on his knees. “We can figure that out together. This marriage isn’t going to end just because things are hard. I have to be two different people at times, Zoe. It is what life is. I have to be the man I am to protect the people who look to me for protection.”
A lump rises in my throat as I twist to grab a pillow from the bed behind me. I hold it close to my chest, stuffing my hands deep into it and trying to hide the way they shake. “And what if I can’t be the perfect cartel wife? I’m not going to run around killing people for the hell of it. That’s not me. I don’t even know if I’m capable of killing anyone.”
Christian shrugs. “Won’t know until it happens.”
“And that’s the problem!”
I toss the pillow to the side and stand up, pacing back and forth. “You think that I can just step into this life and start killing people. Hell, you demand it of me. You want me to be the perfect cartel wife, and I want to be a musician. I want to be able to tour without worrying about going to jail for killing someone. I want to tour around the world with a husband who can actually get on the fucking plane without a warrant for their arrest.”
Christian rolls his eyes, and it only pisses me off more.
