Chapter 20 Shiloh
SHILOH
When I woke the next morning, there was no one else in the bed with me. I’d woken alone in this bed every morning so far. This shouldn’t have been strange.
And yet, it was.
My brain was slow, but not in a bad way. Not the way it often was in the aftermath of a migraine. Instead, my head just felt pleasantly heavy. My thoughts meandered, as if moving through thick, happy, fluffy clouds.
Those thoughts still could not quite tell me why it was weird to wake up here on my own.
I’d gone to bed alone, and-
Oh my God.
I hadn’t gone to bed alone. I’d gotten engaged yesterday afternoon.
And then I’d fucked my sweet, wonderful fiancé. I’d worked his dick until we were both entirely spent and shaking.
He’d been here when I fell asleep. I knew that much.
The sky outside told me we were well past dawn. Of course, Rivven had left to go do all his chores. He’d let me sleep in. This all made sense.
But my nerves jangled anyway. This was the morning of our wedding, wasn’t it? Suddenly, I felt the frantic need to confirm it.
I had to see him.
I had just finished dressing, and was about to shove my feet into my boots, when the bedroom door opened.
And in he walked. Looking like a fucking dream.
Wearing a tuxedo.
“Hi,” I said, stunned by the sight of him. The dark fabric of the trousers and jacket hugged every line and plane of his body like the outfit had been made for him – which it undoubtedly had. The shirt beneath was stark white – exactly the same shade of his eyes as they took me in.
And at his throat, in an adorably unexpected flutter of fabric, was a black bowtie.
“Hello,” he said. He closed the door.
But came no closer.
OK. Weird…
Something was wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I just knew.
He was wearing a tuxedo.
But somehow, he didn’t look ready to marry me.
“Rivven?” My voice cracked.
His eyes were so, so white. But it wasn’t a happy white, or a lusting one. His face looked tired and drawn. But his jaw was set with determination.
“I spoke with Warden Tenn last night.”
My stomach flipped. “Is everything alright?” Someone must be hurt. I thought of Xennet and Dorn, of pregnant Darcy and baby Autumn. “What happened?”
His nostrils flared.
“I’ve frightened you. No, Shiloh. You need not worry. Everything is alright.”
So why the hell didn’t it feel alright?
“Um. OK. So…What did you guys talk about?”
“He told me about the other women who’d come here before you. The ones married to the other men. How, like you, they came here when they ran out of options. He talked about the sorts of changes of circumstance that might have allowed them to leave, if they had not chosen to stay.”
“Oh. That’s…That’s interesting.”
It was. Or it would have been. Any other morning than this one.
“And his words remained with me,” Rivven continued. “‘Changes in circumstances.’ ‘Options.’ They churned in my head nigh-on all the night. I did not sleep. And then, as I dressed for our wedding this morning, it hit me.”
Finally, he came to me. He took my hand in his.
“You never wanted to get married, Shiloh. You wanted the sort of life that would let you paint. A life you could control, and shape around your art.” His hand tensed around mine. But his white gaze was very steady. “I don’t have to be your husband, Shiloh. I could be your patron.”
“Wh…What?!”
“I admit, I don’t have all that many credits to my name,” he went on.
“But I don’t spend many credits, either.
Everything I need I either build or grow or make myself, and the things I can’t, I trade for or barter with the others.
I have savings. It’s not some extraordinary amount.
But it would be enough. Enough to get you set up somewhere with the supplies you would need. ”
“I…I don’t understand…”
“You could start a new life somewhere. A life you’d have complete control over.
You could paint all day and never have to answer to anyone.
” His voice had gone gravelly. If he were human, I would have sworn that he was holding back tears.
“You wouldn’t have to marry me, Shiloh. You wouldn’t have to marry any man you didn’t wish to. Not if I’m your patron.”
My eyes burned. My palms tingled with rapid sweat.
He wasn’t going to marry me?
Instead, he was going to give up the thing he’d wanted most – a bride – to give me the sort of life I’d always dreamed of?
The life Daddy had devoted himself to helping me achieve?
The life I’d thought was forever out of reach?
“But…But why! How could you…I couldn’t just take your money!” I spluttered.
It was absurd. Almost obscene. How generous his offer was. How terribly unfair.
“Why would I do this?” His lips tilted. The saddest smile I’d ever fucking seen.
“Because all that’s mine has been yours from the moment you walked into my saloon and Tasha told me you needed a bed.
You were covering your eyes, and you were hurting, and I knew instantly then what I still know now.
That taking care of you is what I was destined to do.
However I could do it. However I could get it.
If that means supporting you from afar, then I’m going to blasted do it, Shiloh. Because if I thought for one moment…”
His voice broke then, and he hissed harshly between his teeth before he could continue.
“If I thought for one moment that I was the thing holding you back from something better…I wouldn’t be able to bear it.”
He wouldn’t be able to bear it. This man who had already born so much. Lost so much.
This was the thing that would break him. Thinking that, in choosing him, I would somehow be unhappy.
I thought about his words. He’d obviously put great care into all of this, and I considered his offer.
I closed my eyes and imagined what it would mean.
I could go somewhere else. Maybe even participate in that art program on Elora Station.
The one I’d wanted for so long. The one that I’d been so gutted to lose out on.
I would finally be free. Free like I’d always wanted.
And I would be alone.
“No.”
Rivven reared back slightly, like my reply had come at him with a fist.
“No?”
“No,” I repeated, louder this time. “No, Rivven. I thank you for your offer – seriously, sincerely. I appreciate it more than you could ever understand. But I…I’m going to have to decline.”
“But…Why? You said you needed a patron, and-”
“I need you, Rivven!” It was a furious declaration. Almost a shout.
This wasn’t even a question of simple want anymore. It went so far beyond merely wanting him. Because the thought of leaving him right now, leaving him for what had once been the life of my dreams, gave me the feeling of being trapped in a waking nightmare.
I imagined never seeing him again, and grief stabbed me so damn deep that I could barely breathe.
I adored this man. I was fucking smitten. There was no getting around it now.
“I need you,” I said again. I clutched at his hand, as if he might try to take it away from me now. “Because I love you, Rivven.”
I told him I’d be honest with him. This, I knew now, was my heart’s truth.
I loved him.
“You…Are you certain?”
“Oh, Rivven. Sweetheart.”
It hurt that someone could offer him love, and he had to make sure they meant it first. Like they might really have intended to give it to someone else instead of him. I kept holding his hand, and used my other to stroke the side of his face. The hollow of his cheek, the hard line of his jaw.
“I am sure,” I told him. “I’m absolutely certain, in fact.
Before I met you, an offer like the one you just gave me would have been beyond anything I ever could have hoped for.
It was all I’d wanted for so long. All I’d worked for.
But now…That sort of life would just be empty. Because you wouldn’t be in it.”
He closed his eyes briefly as I caressed his face.
“Sometimes, when I don’t have any ideas for a painting, I end up finding inspiration in the most unlikely of places. Often, just when I’ve stop looking for it,” I told him softly. “And that’s kind of what happened with you, Rivven. I wasn’t looking for you. But my heart found you anyway.”
His breath punched out of him. His arms went around me so quickly that I was completely wrapped up in his embrace before I could blink. Even his tail was holding me. It looped itself around my ankle and stayed there.
“I just want you to be happy,” he said, quiet and scraping.
“Then marry me,” I said simply. “That’s what would make me happy, Rivven.”
And it was so fucking true. He had no idea how good the life he was offering up to me was.
I got to have all the freedom to paint without ever having to worry about shoving my work through some kind of capitalist meat grinder.
I’d never have to experience that feeling of rejection when no one wanted to buy from or support me.
I wouldn’t have to try to make every painting The One.
The one that would finally be big enough, important enough, to change my life.
I could spend the rest of my life creating whatever I wanted. I could paint nothing but that pond at different times of day, in different seasons, for the rest of my life if I wanted to.
I wouldn’t be the wealthy, famous artist Daddy had hoped I would be. But I would be so damn happy.
Because I would get Rivven, too.
“I want to marry you, Shiloh,” he said. “I want to marry you more than I’ve allowed myself to want anything in a long, long time.” He drew back slightly, gazing into my face. “You understand that I love you, don’t you?”
“You just offered to spend your entire life’s savings on me just so I could run off and start a new life without you!” I said with a teary laugh. “You really think you need to tell me that you love me after that?”
“I do,” he replied solemnly. “I’ll tell you every day. Every moment.”
“Sounds perfect,” I sighed. “I’ll look forward to that. When I’m your wife.”
I led him towards the door. “So why don’t we go downstairs and make that happen, Rivven? Because the rest of our life is waiting for us. And I want it to start right now.”