58. Lourdes
Lourdes
Istare at the little plastic test stick in my hand. My chest swells with a mixture of joy and panic.
Two pink lines.
The last time I saw two lines like this, it changed my life. A jump into a loveless marriage followed by a loss that hollowed out my insides until I barely recognized myself.
This time feels different. There’s a strange pulse of hope pumping through me. Still, my hands shake as I wrap the stick in a tissue and place it into one of the drawers of my bathroom vanity. I had planned to get on birth control as soon as I got my period. But it never came.
I need to keep this a secret until I can see the doctor for a proper test. Until I know this tiny life inside me is safe. And viable.
I glance in the mirror. Months of no longer hiding bruises with layers of makeup, of living under threats of violence, have brightened my skin.
With proper rest and healthy meals, I’ve returned to my old self.
And having my sister in a better place and a constant part of my life has eliminated a world of stress.
The reflection staring back is someone who has survived and reclaimed herself.
I hear the front door open, and the penthouse erupts into sounds of chaos as it usually does when Ares arrives home. He greets his valet and the cook, and then there are footsteps of the guards starting perimeter checks.
It’s all my silent warning to prepare myself to face my very powerful husband.
Ares stands at one of the living room windows, his back to me, one hand curled around a glass. His posture is taut with control, and I love watching him in these moments, when he’s unaware of my presence. I can hardly believe he’s mine. And we’re having a baby.
I move forward, taking small steps, and when I’m close, I wrap my arms around his waist, seeking the warmth of his touch. I’m usually greeted with a hand pressed over mine, a kiss on the knuckles, and on a few occasions, a hard fuck against that wall.
This time, Ares stiffens under my touch, slowly moving my hand away.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, hating the panic in my voice.
He turns slowly and with sharp, cold eyes, he says, “I’m moving into the Aurelian.”
The words hit like a physical blow to the chest. “What?”
“It’s complete. As my new base of syndicate operations, it makes sense that I live there.”
I’m moving. I live there. He’s… He’s leaving me.
He’s been planning to take the residence at the Aurelian since October. I’m the one who never thought to ask if I was part of that plan.
“When?” I stagger back, my heart pounding. “When are you moving?”
“Tonight.” He stands there like a brick wall.
“I don’t understand?” I run through all the reasons he’d need to go live there on short notice.
“This was an agreement, Lourdes,” he says, voice even. “I have fulfilled all that I promised. Your sister is safe and protected. She always will be. Kirill will not get near her. I told him to move on, and it’s time for me to do the same.”
The floor beneath me shifts and my knees threaten to buckle. “Move on?” I whisper, disbelief and grief coiling inside my chest.
“Emotionally,” he deadpans.
“Just like that? We made love this morning.”
He meets my gaze steadily, eyes like iron and unyielding. “That was not love.”
I step closer, desperate. “What about us?”
“There is no us.” His jaw tightens, his hand impatiently brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.
I shake my head, voice trembling. “Don’t say that. You’re stressed. That’s all.”
“I have lived with stress most of my life,” he defends himself against my pain. “I’m being honest. I’ve given you all that you need, and now I need distance.”
“Distance?” I echo and reach for him. “You mean abandonment. From your feelings. From all the things you don’t want to admit you feel because you think it makes you weak.”
His hand rises as if to hold me back, as if my touch will break him. “My decision is final.”
This wasn’t an agreement. This was one of his arrangements, and I didn’t even realize it. Now it’s over, and he’s leaving me.
But he’s keeping me as his wife to protect my sister.
I laugh bitterly, traitorous tears breaking through. “Like the decision to make me lose my job, hire me, woo me, kill my husband, and then marry me against my will. This is just another power play. Got it. Go hide from the truth.”
He moves a step closer, the heat and scent of him making me dizzy. “What truth?”
I push him away. “That you love me… Even if it terrifies you. Nothing terrifies the God of War more than peace. And love.”
Ares stays quiet.
“Go. Get your distance. Find a whore to remind yourself you can fuck without emotion. I watched you while you were inside me, while we made love. That look on your face wasn’t just from pleasure.
You love me. But whatever. Go get your distance until you figure it out.
” I stalk off to the bedroom without waiting for a response.
I slam the door and look around, hating how much I love this room. It was the first place I’d allowed myself to think of as home since I left for college seven years ago.
I collapse onto the cushioned window seat, sobs wracking my chest. I allowed myself to get lost in a fantasy that Ares would grow to love me. None of that can happen with him intentionally living apart from me.
He made me fall in love with him. Bastard. I wipe the mascara-streaked tears rolling down my face, feeling myself hardening, just as another sob wretches from my lips.
One night. Just one night, I tell myself. I will allow this grief over Ares to consume me for one night.
The God of War is not the only one who can lock down feelings.
Tomorrow, I will shut down mine, eviscerate them, and become Skadi, the Norse ice goddess.