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Fighting was for boys and men.

Girls were supposed to be the soft ones.

“That’s my ring. You gave it to me. We’re still married.”

His strong shoulders shrugged, the muscles clearly visible underneath his thin shirt.

“Not for much longer. I won’t stay married to an unfaithful wife.”

My husband turned to go.

“You never loved me! You can’t have loved me, if you’d believe these lies!”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Étienne snarled, pointing a finger in my face. “I gave you plenty of attention. More than I should have.”

“Please, put your hand on my belly,” I cried, grabbing for his shirt, desperate for anything that would change his mind. “Then you’ll see. I promise. You’ll feel the connection, you’ll feel blood calling to blood. He’s your son, Étienne. If you turn your back on me, at least don’t turn your back on him.”

But his shirt slipped through my fingers, like my husband was removing every trace of me, like he couldn’t even bear my touch.

“I don’t want anything more to do with you or that bastard child. If you enjoy my brother’s company so much, let him leave the Bastides and take care of you. But there will never be a place for you again there.”

After that, everything was gray.

CHAPTER 7

Léonie

Ilived in the void, in the space between earth and sky, in the blurry zone of constant, throbbing numbness and pain.

Étienne did not believe me, would not believe me.

He had taunted me by asking if I’d always love him, then flung my love back in my face.

Why had he married me, if he felt this way about me?

It must have been something he got in the marriage settlement with my Da. I did not even know what had been in it.

But I knew Étienne did not love me.

The only moments that broke through my unending pain were the kicks and ripples across my belly from my boy.

Étienne had wanted the name Bérenger, which meant boy in French, while I loved the name Ciel, which meant sky, from the heavens.

Étienne. Étienne, my love.

I ate and drank, but I hardly knew how or when.

Hugo fed me, Hugo made sure I had something to eat and drink.

Time passed, and it hurt.

Living hurt. I wanted to sink into the forest floor and go somewhere I didn’t feel this, I wished I was a bird of prey, a hawk.

I wished I was something that could sink its teeth into Étienne.

The shame of his rejection filled me and I had to look back at every day since the first time we had met.

It had been enough to love him more. It had always been enough just to be able to love him. I didn’t care that it was more.