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But no words come.
“Before you ask him to give up everything he’ll have to in order to be with you once you permanently resume your duties, you might want to figure that out, Esme.”
ChapterThirty-One
Esme
I studymy reflection in the mirror, hating everything about this.
Not because I’m forced to wear a dress and heels, as opposed to the pajama pants I’ve been wearing around my apartment for the past several days.
But because I’m not sure I’m ready to face the media, not to mention the upper-class society vultures who’ve been invited to a recognition ceremony and reception at the palace.
While I’m thrilled to be able to award Creed the Cross of Valor, one of the highest military honors in this country, it seems like a publicity stunt. A way for the royal household to remind the public of the attempt on my life when I’d love nothing more than to put it behind me.
Even if the nightmares that plague me every night make that impossible.
“You look beautiful.”
Tristan’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I watch him through the mirror as he approaches, pushing my golden hair over one shoulder. His warm lips graze the spot where my neck meets my shoulder.
“Your stylists did an amazing job. I can’t even see any of your bruises. In a few days, you probably won’t need any makeup to hide them. It’ll be like it never happened.” He flashes a congenial smile.
“Except Captain Lawson will forever have a permanent reminder itdidhappen in the form of a scar.” I face him, expression severe. “Those people who suffered injuries during the chaos that ensued will forever remember it did happen.I’llforever remember it happened, even long after every single one of my physical scars heals. The mental ones won’t, Tristan. They’ll always be with me.”
“I know. But eventually, it’ll get easier. Trust me on this, darling.”
Mouth agape, I stare at him, my irritation increasing the longer he attempts to man-splain how I should feel.
“Why?” I place a hand on my hip. “Has someone ever pulled a gun on you?”
“No. I just… Fuck.” He digs his fingers through his hair and tugs at the ends, messing up his stylist’s hard work. “I feel like I don’t know what to say to you anymore. Don’t know what’s going to upset you. I just want you to feel loved.” He reaches for my hand and links our fingers, his thumb caressing my knuckles. “Want you to know I’m with you, no matter what.”
The anguish in his voice is so raw. So real.
My unusual irritability hasn’t exactly been making things easy for him. I try to blame it on the fact I haven’t been sleeping much, not when every time I close my eyes, all I see is that damn gun. All I feel are the flames of the fire that took Adam’s life.
But I don’t think that’s the only reason I’ve been short-tempered.
Instead, a lot has to do with feeling uncertain about our relationship.
Since Anderson’s visit, I can’t stop thinking about what he said. About whether Idowant to be with Tristan. It’s why I haven’t brought up my plan to stay indefinitely and resume my duties. I’m not sure if I see a future with him. Not with the level of certainty he deserves.
“I’m sorry.” I briefly close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“It’s okay, darling.” He wraps me in his arms and presses a soft kiss to my temple. “I understand.”
But I doubt he trulydoesunderstand. Doubt he ever will. Not when he seems to belittle what happened, implying it’s not that big of a deal since I survived.
Tristan may not think it’s a big deal, especially with the high incidence of gun violence in his home country. To me, itisa big deal. I can’t just forget it happened. How can I when I’m perpetually reliving that split second I was frozen in place, staring into the barrel of a gun, completely unable to move?
“Excuse me, ma’am. Mr. Hughes.”
When I hear my butler’s voice, I pull away from Tristan. “Yes?”
“Captain Walsh is here to take you to Lamberside.”
“Thank you, Frederick.”
