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And so she would have to steel herself. Because when he asked, she would have to say no. She would have to show no emotion whatsoever. She would have to tell herself every single day that he could walk into the office and propose marriage, any day. At any moment.
So that when he finally did, she reacted not at all. Didn’t even bat an eyelash. It would destroy her. It would be as a knife, cutting across the vulnerable places in her soul.
But she would do it.
And then, she would offer to find him another wife. Because it was the only way. It was the only way she would be able to cope with all of this. The only way she would be able to be strong. Resolute in herself.
There was no other choice. There was no other choice.
She couldn’t forget.
She could not afford to let emotion take over.
Henever would.
And that was what she had to remember.
The joy that she felt inside of her chest deflated.
This was no different than that moment he told her that his engagement was off. Yes, everything bright and beautiful seemed possible for a moment. But only for a moment. Because reality remained. He was no different, and neither was she.
She got out of bed, her heart hammering.
“We will go back to Monte Blanco,” he said, sitting up, the sheets sliding down and only barely covering any part of him.
“We will not,” she said, panic rioting through her now.
“There is no discussion to be had,” he said, frowning. “You are to be my bride, Livia.”
“No. I didn’t say that.”
“You said that you wanted me.”
“I did. And I had you. It was lovely, don’t get me wrong. But... This was not an agreement to be your wife.”
“The hell it wasn’t.”
“Do you marry every woman you have sex with, Matteo? Only, we both know you don’t, as I have been responsible for shoving a great many of them out of your life. So what exactly did you think I would do when you proposed to me?”
“I thought you would say yes. Because I thought you had a brain in your head.”
“I have spent years seeing the way that you treat women. As disposable, easily discarded things.”
“That isn’t fair,” he said. “The women that I’ve been in relationships with have known full well how it was going to end. Quickly. They knew that I would offer a good time in bed, and a few hours of conversation. Civilized conversation. They knew that there would be nothing more than that. And they knew it from the beginning. I have never gone about being a breaker of hearts. No one has ever had their hearts engaged. Do not pretend now that you are responding to something you imagined.”
“No. You’re misconstruing what I’m saying. I have watched you have feelings for no one. Why would I consent to live with such a man? And what will happen when you tire of me? When you get bored? You will simply find yourself another lover, because your emotions are otherwise engaged. Or rather, not engaged at all.”
“I will not. I will honor our vows.”
“No. I’m not a fool. And you thought that I would be so grateful for your attentions that I would simply fall down onto my knees and accept. You thought that you could come in making demands and that I would comply. Because you thought that I was small and desperate. You can say whatever you want about why you call me Mouse, but I don’t believe you. I think it is because you find me small and grateful, and you thought that I would still be that same desperate, grasping creature that you found on the streets. Oh, that I should be so lucky as to gain your attentions. As to be offered this elevation as your Queen. But no. I will not take it, and I do not want it.”
“It is too late,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“It is too late for you to refuse. You made love with me.”
“A commonplace act for you.”
