27. Ash
Ash
I’d forgotten how beautiful the women in Norwich were. I found myself staring open-mouthed at a slender woman walking past.
There were women of every shape, every shade—every kind of beauty you could imagine. And still… none of them were Claire.
My gaze dropped back to the whiskey waiting on the bar, and I scowled as I took a swig that scorched all the way down. But it didn’t touch the ache sitting in my chest.
Why the hell couldn’t I stop thinking about her?
Fine. I had feelings for her. And she had feelings for me. But that didn’t change anything. I wasn’t built for the kind of life she wanted. And yet… the thought of the life she was about to have was an ugliness twisting inside me.
I’d tried to warn her, to steer her away without saying too much. But Garrick’s glamour wrapped around my thoughts like iron chains. Every time I got close to the truth, it slipped just out of reach, like a word on the tip of my tongue I couldn’t quite grasp.
Being human and susceptible to glamour was a cruel joke.
And that smug bastard would never let me walk free knowing what I did. I couldn’t even think about it properly, couldn’t hold the truth long enough to speak it.
I hadn’t told Claire everything about my past either. It felt too heavy then. But the truth was simple in all the worst ways.
My mother married a man she expected to protect, provide for, and love her.
That illusion lasted through two children, but by the second, he had already started straying.
By the fourth—me—he was beating her for anything and nothing at all.
The night he raised his hand to my eldest sibling was the night it finally ended; we fled into the dark while he was passed out drunk, carrying only what we could, and never saw him again.
You don’t rely on anyone—not for money, not for happiness, not for safety. You build a life yourself, or you don’t have it at all. Maybe if I’d told Claire that, she would’ve listened.
Instead, I had lashed out, and I’d mocked her for wanting to be pampered, but a wave of guilt hit me.
In a world as cruel as this one, there was nothing wrong with a woman seeking stability in a partner.
In fact, if I was being entirely honest with myself, I secretly wanted to be the one to provide that for her.
But Claire didn’t think she could take care of herself. She underestimated her own strength, and it pissed me off more than anything that she thought she needed some random, wealthy duke to step in and take over her life.
She was worth so much more than a comfortable cage.
Or maybe I just wanted her to choose me, anyway.
I motioned for another whiskey. The bartender slid it over without a word, and I didn’t hesitate before taking another drink.
“Trying to drown yourself or just your thoughts?” Caspian’s voice cut in from my left, easy and familiar. He leaned against the bar beside me, watching me with that knowing look I hated.
“I’m fine,” I muttered.
“Right. That’s why you look like someone just ripped your heart out and handed it back to you.”
I shot him a glare, but it didn’t have much bite.
“You’re thinking about her,” he murmured.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. Damn it, he wasn’t wrong.
“Gods, Ash. You’re terrible at pretending.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“And I’m saying you’re lying.”
I turned back to my drink, scowling.
“Even if I am, it doesn’t matter. She’s made her choice.”
“Has she?” he asked gently.
That made me pause. My gaze shifted back to him.
“Or did she make the only choice she thought she had?” he countered.
I didn’t like where this was going.
“She’ll be taken care of,” I reasoned, though the words felt hollow even as I spoke them. “She’ll have everything she wants.”
“Everything?” Caspian repeated. “Or everything that looks good from the outside?”
I didn’t answer because I knew what Garrick was. Or at least, enough of it.
Caspian studied me for a long moment before he spoke again, quieter this time. “You care about her.”
My grip tightened around the glass.
“You’ve fallen for her,” he added.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to her. And clearly to you.” Caspian sighed. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you, like you’ve hung the damn stars yourself. She’s not subtle about anything. But especially not about you. It was as clear as day that she pined after you, Ash.”
Silence stretched between us.
Then Caspian nudged my shoulder, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “It would be selfish of you to do nothing.”
I blinked at him. “Selfish?”
“Mm. Walking away when you know something’s wrong? Letting her step into a life you know isn’t what she thinks it is?” He tilted his head. “Sounds a lot like you are protecting yourself instead of protecting her.”
“That’s not—”
“Isn’t it? Because from where I’m standing, Ash, you’re the one scared.”
I opened my mouth, but no words came.
“Scared you’ll lose her,” he continued. “Scared you won’t be enough. Scared you can’t give her what she deserves.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“And maybe you can’t,” Caspian said softly. “But that doesn’t mean you let her walk into something worse.”
Fuck me, he’s actually making sense.
“She deserves the truth, and you’re the only one who can give it to her.”
I stared down at my whiskey, watching the liquid ripple in the glass.
“You don’t get to decide her life for her,” Caspian added. “But you do get to give her the chance to choose it with her eyes open.”
A long silence settled between us.
Then, quieter still, he said, “And if you love her, you owe her that.”
Love. The word hit harder than the whiskey ever could.
Caspian nudged me again.
“Go get her, Ash.”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.
Because deep down…
I already knew I would.