Chapter 94
ROWAN
Her voice softens when she starts reading.
The first question sounds harmless enough, but with Bella, nothing ever is.
“What’s my favorite time of day?”
Reggie answers first. “Midnight. You like the quiet. The moment where the busy slips away and you can read in peace.”
She tilts her head. “Close.”
I lean forward. “Sunrise,” I say. “You pretend you hate mornings, but you love beginnings. You love the promise that maybe this one won’t hurt.”
Her lips part, and she doesn’t speak for a moment. Then she nods once, writing something down on the pad beside her.
“Next question,” she says softly. “What’s the first thing I’d do if everything fell apart?”
Reggie doesn’t hesitate. “Fight.”
I shake my head. “No. You’d disappear. You’d run, just long enough to convince yourself no one could follow.”
She looks up sharply, and I can see it in her eyes—the flicker of recognition, the truth hitting home.
“Third question,” she says, voice quieter now. “What do I want most but will never admit out loud?”
Reggie glances at me, his confidence wavering for the first time tonight.
He’s good with words, but this one’s mine.
I meet her eyes.
“You want a future,” I say quietly. “Not a fantasy, not survival. A real one. Somewhere you don’t have to be anyone’s weapon.”
The room goes silent.
Even the candle seems to hold its breath.
She lowers her gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. “That was supposed to be a trick question.”
“It never is with you,” I say.
And for the first time since these games began, she looks at me like she’s not testing me anymore. Like she’s terrified I might already know every answer she’s spent her whole life trying to hide.
I know it because I feel that too. Wearing a mask every damn day to be someone else, when sometimes all you want to do is run away and hide.
Like after I was shot. It made me realize how quick it can all be ripped from you, and what had I done with my life other than barely survive it?
She flips another card. Her hand trembles, just slightly, but she hides it behind that sharp little smile she always wears when she’s afraid someone might see too much.
“What do I do when I’m scared?” she asks.
Reggie answers first, calm and steady. “You get mean. You pick fights to remind yourself you’re still in control.”
She tilts her head. “That’s not wrong.”
I watch her fingers trace the edge of the next card. “You isolate,” I say quietly. “You push everyone away so no one sees you fall apart. Because if someone sees it, it makes it real.”
Her lips twitch, and her eyes dart between us. “You’re both right.”
She exhales, flips another. “What would make me walk away from someone I love?”
Reggie leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Betrayal. You could forgive a lie, but not a broken promise.”
I shake my head. “Fear. You’d walk before anyone else could hurt you. It’s not about them, it’s about what you think you deserve.”
She looks down at the table, jaw trembling. “Maybe both.”
The candlelight flickers, shadows moving across her face.
“What’s the one thing I can’t forgive?”
Reggie doesn’t even hesitate. “Someone trying to cage you.”
I answer slower. “Someone taking your trust and twisting it.”
She stares at the candle, voice softer. “Those might be the same thing.”
She shuffles again, but her eyes never leave ours. “What would I look like as a wife?”
Reggie smirks, but his voice is gentle. “A force. You’d run the world barefoot and make everyone thank you for it.”
Her lips part, but I add quietly, “You’d let yourself need someone without calling it weakness.”
Her breath catches, and she presses her hand over her heart for a moment, like she’s trying to hold herself together.
The next card makes her hesitate. “What about me scares you most?”
Reggie answers first. “That you’ll break yourself proving you’re unbreakable.”
My throat tightens. “That one day you’ll look at us and realize you don’t need either of us to be whole.”
The silence that follows is heavy. Her eyes shine in the candlelight, but no tears fall.
Then she draws the final card. Her voice drops. “What would make me choose one of you?”
Reggie’s jaw flexes, but his answer is quiet. “You’d pick the one who’d never ask you to change.”
I meet her gaze. “You’d pick the one who’d let you be free, even if it meant letting you go.”
Her eyes glisten, her lips parting on a shaky breath.
“God,” she whispers, setting the card down. “You’re both right. About everything.”
She half laughs. “You know, my dad always said I was easy to read. I wear my emotions. But, damn. Am I that easy?”
Reggie shakes his head. “No, Princess. We just understand you.”
Her voice cracks as she looks between us. “That’s the problem. You don’t give me the same things; you give me the parts of myself I can’t live without. Together you make me whole.”
For a long time, no one moves.
Finally, she leans back in her chair and exhales. “There’s no winner here,” she murmurs.
Reggie leans forward, his expression unreadable. “Then what’s the next game, Princess?”
Her eyes lift, bright with something fierce and unsteady. “The last one, we’re going to turn up the heat. I can’t do much more of this emotional stuff today.”
We both nod, we can see her starting to crack. Part of me debates bowing out to stop her from making the decision. But, that isn’t what she needs.
She stands slowly, brushing her fingers over the table as if to anchor herself. “And it’s not about who feels more for me. It’s about who survives me.”