Page 26 of In Love with My Secret Husband

"Not by choice."

And she...had always known that. It was why she had left him in the first place. Because she knew he was a good man, and she used to think she was a good person, too, until she lost her mind and found herself saying the craziest things, hurting him just because she was hurting, and that...

That wasn't love.

"I love you, Troy. Y-You know that, don't you?"

His face hardened. The softness she had seen moments ago — the tenderness, the vulnerability, the man who had touched her cheek like she was something sacred — vanished. In its place was the Troy Barrymore the rest of the world knew. The one with the locked jaw and the cold eyes and the voice that could cut through steel.

"Don't."

"D-Don't w-what—"

"Don't bother saying you love me," he snarled, "if you're only saying it because you're about to leave me again."

The words hit her like a physical blow. Her knees nearly buckled. Because he was right. He wasright. Every time she had said she loved him, she had followed it with a goodbye. Every single time. And he had learned to hear the goodbye before the love.

"I don't want to," she choked out.

"Thenstay!"

His voice broke on the word, and the sound of it — the raw, ragged edge of a man who had spent his entire life being unbreakable finally breaking—

"But after what I've done — Troy,no!"

She knew it was stupid, but she still found herself trying to run away the moment she saw him stalk toward her. His eyes had gone dark with something fierce and desperate, and every step he took was deliberate, closing the distance between them while she backed away with the sheet trailing behind her like a wedding train.

And just like so many times in the past, she ended up tripping over the edge of her sheet, her foot catching the trailing fabric, and she went down—

But it was Troy who caught her.

Troy, who always caught her from falling.

Troy, whom she loved so, so much—

He caught her in his arms, one hand gripping her waist, the other cradling the back of her head, and she was pressed against his chest with the sheet bunched between them and her bare feet dangling off the floor.

"Look at me!"

She shook her head. Her face was buried against his shirt, and she could feel his heartbeat slamming under her cheek, fast and hard and furious.

"Look at me, Laina."

No, she didn't want to, didn't deserve to—

"Please."

But the moment she heard her Troy say that word—

Her Troy, whose pride she had just destroyed in front of millions of his fans—

Of course, she looked at him.

And of course, she started to cry.

Because his eyes, oh God, his eyes...

They were wet.