I wrapped my arms around myself.
“You don’t seem afraid when you should be.”
“Probably.”
I studied his profile, my eyes tracing the sharp line of his jaw and the stillness of his posture. Despite the seriousness of our conversation, he almost seemed unbothered. As if a confrontation, a war, and my brothers combined would not be able to hard it. It was unnerving to say the least, and I could not understand the basis behind it.
“You’re too calm,” I said quietly.
“I don’t see the benefit of panic.”
“It would at least make you human.”
He turned, and his dark, stormy eyes finally met mine.
“I am human.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“The way you are keeping me hostage here with so much as an inch of remorse in your body, I would actually disagree.”
A flicker of something crossed his expression that looked a little bit like regret or conviction. I was no longer certain.
“I tied you to myself, just as much as I tied myself to you. You are not the only one who is a hostage in this marriage, Elisse; I am too. I know you don’t realize that, and you think of me as cruel and barbaric and someone who doesn’t care aboutanything, but if you stop and look outside yourself, you will realize I am just as much here as you are.”
“That does not make my situation any better.”
“That’s debatable.”
I should have walked away then, but I stayed instead, the wind catching my hair and whipping it across my face. He reached out instinctively to move it away, but then stopped himself right before his fingertips grazed my skin. His hand hovered there for half a second and then fell back to his side. The restraint burned more than touch would have and filled me with a frustration I didn’t know I was capable of possessing.
“You can’t just pretend this is normal. Any of it,” I said.
“I am not.”
“You act like it is.”
“I’m stabilizing it.”
“You think patience fixes coercion?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Giving you time.”
“For what?”
“To process your anger.”
I stared at him.
“You expect it to fade?”
“No.”
