Chapter 3 #2
“My mother,” she says casually, as if it’s normal.
“But since I’ve started dating Silas, she’s nicer to me.
She’s become the mother I’ve always wanted.
I think she’s finally proud to have me as a daughter, instead of treating me like a stain on the family name.
” The simple way she’s discussing this reminds me so much of myself when I was in a dark place a few years ago —trauma has a weird way of altering your brain, your reality, your self-worth.
“And if I don’t leave Augustine with an engagement, they’re going to take my inheritance. ”
I’m immensely confused. She keeps talking.
“That’s the whole reason they sent me here. To find a husband. I don’t have much use outside of that,” she continues. “I’m the firstborn daughter of a viscount, Lucy. You know how that is. All I’m meant to do is marry into a good family.”
I let her words sink in.
“And Silas is that opportunity?”
She rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. “Yes. He’s a future Duke. My mother loves him. My father gave him his blessing. I was planning on just running away after he proposed to me…but now, I guess it won’t be so bad if we get married.”
I hold the sides of her head, bringing her in closer.
“This is an absolutely terrible decision, Eden,” I whisper.
She clearly doesn’t know that Silas is fucking broke, but I can’t get her to understand my point by explaining that to her.
They’re treating her like a commodity, a bargaining chip, a pawn—and she believes she deserves to be one.
Even if I tell her Silas is broke, she’ll just move on to the next candidate.
“If they gave you until the end of your time here, why are you doing it now? Marriage isn’t something you should take lightly, or think of as simply as forming an alliance.
Especially with somebody like Silas, Eden. ”
And it’s much harder to leave when you’re married to your abuser.
She takes a few moments to respond.
She holds my hands as I hold her face.
“The quicker I get it over with…”
I frown, anger rearing its head. “The quicker you’ll die. That’s the only thing left for him to do at this point.” I’m doing my best to hold back. “Eden, I don’t think you understand the kind of danger you’re in. Silas hurts people.”
She closes her eyes, tears falling from her waterline. I wipe them away with my thumb, smearing her eye makeup. Eden feels fragile in my hands. I can’t tell if it’s grief, or if my words are finally getting through to her.
“I know. Maybe this is my fate, Lucian. I hate it, but this is probably all I’m worth.” The words leave her mouth so softly I barely hear them. “This is how I’m useful to my family, to God, I…”
A wave of sadness swells in my chest.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she mutters.
“How?”
“Like you’re sad for me.”
“I am.”
“Why would you be? You don’t know me.”
I stare into her eyes. I need her to hear every single word I’m going to say.
“I know you enough, Eden. I know you enough to know that you’re more valuable than what your parents think.
You live in your head a lot, but if you ever took the time to stop and look around you, you’d realize just how amazing you are.
” I suck in a breath, quelling the rage that sparks whenever I think of him.
“Your value is intrinsic. It doesn’t come from anything you do for anyone.
You don’t have to sacrifice yourself to be valuable.
” I let out a sigh. “Why the hell are we even talking about value anyway? You’re not a piece of art for your family to barter.
You deserve a love so much better than what Silas will ever be able to give you. ”
She laughs humorlessly. I really hope she heard me, that at least some part of what I said makes it through that stubborn streak she has. Eden is an enigma—soft and malleable, yet somehow able to cling to certain beliefs steadfastly.
“Where am I going to find that, Lucy?”
The room falls eerily silent.
The crackle of the fireplace.
The sound of her breathing.
“You really just have to open your eyes,” I say.
“More people care about you than you think.” My eyes travel the length of her face, committing every inch of it to memory.
She has a tiny mole by the side of her nose that I never noticed before.
“They think you’re beautiful. They think you’re priceless.
They love every single moment they spend around you. ”
There are a few heartbeats of that tense, thick silence.
She sits up, looking in my eyes. There’s a spark in them.
“If other people think I’m beautiful and priceless and love every single moment they spend around me, why have they never told me?”
I suck in a breath. “Maybe you never gave them a chance before you jumped into whatever you have going on with Silas.” At this point I don’t want to even call it a relationship.
“Lucy?”
“Hm?”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
I nod. “You can tell me anything, Edie.”
Eden sucks in a deep breath. “I knew it was going to be Silas before I even came to this school. From the moment my parents told me that they would be sending me here, I spent hours coming through social media to find somebody important enough to use in my plan.” Her eyes are fixed on something behind me.
“Silas was never supposed to be a long-term plan. But now, I’m too deep in.
It feels like I can’t do anything but continue down the path I’m on. ”
It’s just my luck that I deleted all my social media accounts years ago.
I’m not shocked, though. Surprised, maybe, but not shocked. Eden has been living in fight-or-flight her entire life. Whether she knows it or not, everything she does is centered around surviving. And before she met him, she thought Silas was her way to survive.
Finally, I can see the bigger picture. I look down at her hands—no ring. Good.
“If you could go back in time, would you make the same decisions?”
Her answer is immediate, frowning. “No.” Absent-mindedly she ghosts her fingers over a bruise. “Why are you even asking me that?”
“Maybe I have a time machine.”
She chuckles. My heart does that thing.
We fall into silence again. She drinks her tea,; I drink in the sight of her.
I could watch her forever.
I want to watch her forever.
But she isn’t mine to watch.
“Lucy?”
“Hm?”
She sets down her cup, wringing her fingers like she’s nervous about something.
“I’m feeling so many different things right now, and I don’t know which is which. But I know I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I wish you did have a time machine.”
Her gaze is raw, vulnerable, her eyes glassy.
“Why?”
Another long silence.
“I wish I could try something else with my life. I wish I could’ve chosen somebody else.
I wish I wasn’t stuck. I wish my mind wasn’t mush most of the time, and I wish my emotions weren’t all over the place.
” She’s staring at me so intently. “Most of all, I wish I cared about myself the way you care about me.”
What a wish.
“Self-love is hard, but—”
I’m cut off by Eden holding my face, draping herself across my lap so we’re nose-to-nose. There’s chamomile on her breath from the tea.
Her lips brush against mine, hesitant, soft—like a question she’s afraid to ask.
For a second, I don’t move.
I don’t breathe.
But my restraint snaps the moment she wraps her arms around my neck. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I hoist her into my lap, deepening the kiss. Everything about this is wrong, we shouldn’t be doing this.
And that’s the problem.
I’ve always liked what I shouldn’t.