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“Hardship can tear people apart.”
“It can also bring them closer together,” Sam points out, her voice rising toward the end. “My guess is that Carter is freaked out, and he wants to figure out how to handle all of this.”
Because he has a decision to make, and it’s not abstract anymore.
Even though I didn’t explicitly tell him to walk away from the only life he’s ever known and the empire he’s worked hard to build, the implication is still clear.
Carter and I can no longer survive in this deadly environment. Not anymore. And Carter is beginning to come to the same conclusion.
It shouldn’t have taken a baby for us to come to this decision, but I’m not going to apologize for looking out for her. Our child isn’t even here yet, and I’d already do anything and everything for her.
Sam lapses into silence when Tristan appears in a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, carrying a tray of food. Wordlessly, he sets it down on the grass and disappears. I’m about to say something else when Tristan re-emerges with a foldable table. He puts it down between us and picks the tray back up.
When he lifts his gaze to mine, I offer him a grim smile. “Thank you.”
Tristan sets the tray down as carefully as possible and nods. “Sure.”
Sam motions to me, but I don’t pick up the spoon.
“I want to talk to him, Tristan. I need to explain some things to him.”
Otherwise, he’ll spiral and do something stupid. Carter isn’t exactly known for making rational decisions when he’s angry or hurt.
Tristan shoves his hands into his pockets and looks up at the sky, at the slew of blue clouds rolling by. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Isabella. I’m sorry.”
My stomach dips. “Is it because he told you that he doesn’t want to talk to me?”
Tristan is quiet for a while.
I place my hands underneath my thighs and ignore the panic rising within me.
In his way, Tristan is trying to help, and I’m sure it can’t be easy for him to be placed in the middle.
Again.
“Carter isn’t really talking to anyone right now,” Tristan admits, pausing to release a slow and uneven breath. “He’s safe, but I can’t tell you much else.”
I grow smaller. “Because he doesn’t want you to tell me?”
“Because he doesn’t want anyone to know,” Tristan replies gently. He runs a hand through his hair, and his expression softens. “I wouldn’t take it personally, Isabella. Sometimes, it’s just how he operates.”
But I’m not anyone. And Carter has never iced me out like this before. Even when he dances around topics he doesn’t want to talk about, at least he’s present.
I’ve never felt further away from him.
“I’m sure he’s working on some things.” Sam is quick to add, with a pointed look in Tristan’s direction. She looks back at me and forces a smile to her lips. “And he’ll be back before you know it. Right, Tristan?”
Tristan gives a start and coughs. “Yeah, sure.”
Sam pushes her chair next to mine and picks up a spoon. She hands it to me and waits until I’ve stirred the soup around and taken a sip. “In the meantime, I’m sure he’ll check in when he can. He does still have the treaty to worry about and everything else that goes along with it.”
Tristan nods a little too quickly. “It’s complicated and tricky. He has to be careful; otherwise, another war could start.”
I take a sip of my meatball soup and exhale. “Okay.”
Tristan gives my back an awkward pat. “It’ll be okay, Isabella. Carter won’t stay away for long, and you’ve got all of us in the meantime.”
Anita materializes next to us, an apron still tied around her waist and her hair gathered into a bun on top of her head. “And I plan on spoiling my future niece and great niece, so after you’re done eating, we’re all going to go out and buy a few things for the baby. After that, we’re going to have a nice lunch.”
