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“So when did you get married?” I ask, looking for some light at the end of this very long and dark tunnel. “Surely, something changed.”
Celine frowns a bit at me, her mouth curved in a confused laugh. “What? We’re not…we never got married.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
She tilts her head, peering at me with increasing confusion. “It means we never wed. I’m not…did you think we’re married?”
My mouth drops open. I think I’m about to crap out my heart. “I…I don’t understand.”
“What’s not to understand?” she asks. “We never had a wedding. Never exchanged vows. Hell, I don’t think we ever ordered a marriage license.”
“But your name…you’re a Zakharov.”
She nods. “Yeah, that was his idea. Smart, too. Legally changed my name to keep up appearances in case Benedict or anyone else started to suspect. Plus, it just made things easier when it came to establishing myself in high society.” She winks at me like it’s some fun little secret and not a nuclear bomb on my reality.
I keep opening my mouth and closing it, waiting for something to pop into my mind that will make sense. “I just… Sorry, I’m a little stunned,” I admit at last.
Celine nods as though she understands where I’m coming from. “We weren’t dating that long before he proposed, and then it seemed like it wouldn’t be a big deal to wait. I actually thought it was romantic, to wait and see what happens.”
“Right,” I say even as I remember something she’d told me not long ago. “But, didn’t you say you want a family?”
“Oh,” Celine says as her eyebrows flatten out and her mouth curves down so low I wonder if she’s going to start crying. “That.”
I give her knee another squeeze. As much as I want to know, I refuse to put my curiosity above her mental well-being. “If you don’t want to talk about it, then—"
“No,” she says, cutting me off. “No, it’s okay. I might as well tell you. I guess that was my way of saying that I was trying to convince him to give me a baby. Essentially, it’s me pleading with him to sleep with me—if not for love, then for the purposes of reproduction.”
She cringes as she finishes speaking. I tighten my grip on her leg. “Oh, Celine.”
“It sounds pretty pathetic when I say it out loud.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
She smiles sadly. “You’re being kind.”
“I’m really not. I’m not kind at all.”
“Oh, Tay, I don’t know where you’ve got this notion that I’m some wallflower who needs protecting. Lately, you’ve been looking at me like I’m seconds away from crumbling. I’m not as weak as all that.”
Well, that was out of the blue.“I never said you were.”To your face.
“Maybe not. But you look at me like I am.”
I’m on the verge of denying it when I stop myself. She might be picking up on something subliminal. Who am I to tell her she’s wrong whenI’mnot even sure?
“I’m sorry.” I bite my tongue and try to gather my thoughts. “Can I ask you a question that you might not like?”
Celine raises her eyebrows. “We’ve gone down the rabbit hole now. So, shoot.”
“Are you still in love with Ilarion?”
She doesn’t answer at first. Her eyes flicker around the room as though she’s searching for the answer elsewhere. Finally, she sighs deeply and her gaze veers back to me.
“You know, there are times when I wonder if I was ever in love with him,” she says softly. Then she shudders. “I was young when I met him and he was this big, bold, confident personality. And so handsome that it hurt to look at him. He whisked me away to far-off places, showered me with presents and attention. He took me shopping, bought me jewelry, made me feel like I could have anything I wanted. It felt like a hurricane, where I was the eye of the storm. I feel like maybe I was so caught up in all that that I mistook infatuation for love. I mistook all the luxury and attention for adoration.” Her laughter has an edge of despair.
“Oh, Cee…”
She chuckles. “Yeah, I’m hearing myself. Again, pretty pathetic.”
