I hadn’t promised. I’d agreed to try. “Turns out seeing another man fondling my wife brings out the monster in me.” Just thinking of that dinner made my blood boil anew.
She huffed a breath, turning to the armoire like she couldn’t stand the sight of me any longer. “My relationship with Robert is none of your business.”
“None of my business? Have you forgotten that you and I are married? And if I hadn’t been at dinner tonight, you would’ve let your preciousRobertbend you over the table and have his way with you right on top of the feckin’ turkey.”
Keelynn’s hand connected with my cheek. Stinging pain exploded behind my eyes.
“How dare you speak to me like that.”
She’d slapped me. Actually slapped me.
I’d taken things too far. Let my mouth get ahead of my brain.
“I amnothingto you,” she spat.
Nothing to me? Couldn’t she see that she waseverything?
“. . . and you are nothing to me. A means to an end. An escape from reality. A handsome distraction.”
She didn’t mean that. She couldn’t. “Keelynn—” I reached for my wife, and you’d swear from the way she jumped away that I’d been the one to strike her.
“No. You don’t get to talk to me. I want you out of this house. And don’t think about coming back until you’ve organized a magistrate.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Don’t kick me out. Please, don’t kick me out.“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” I raked my fingers through my hair, tamping down my rising panic. I couldn’t leave her. Alone. Withhim. “I shouldn’t have said that, and I shouldn’t have acted so childish at dinner. I’m sorry.”
The fire in her eyes went out, replaced by a shield of ice. “Save your worthless apologies for someone who cares and get the hell out of my room.”
I’d screwed up. Royally screwed up. There was no talking to her in this state. Not knowing where else to go, I evanesced to the castle.
Rían was in his chair, reading yet another book on Tearmann law. The man was a walking library. He must’ve read each one at least three times. Why he insisted on doing so again was beyond me.
Rían glanced up from his book, surprise flickering across his features. “Where’s your assassin?”
“With feckin’ Robert.”
“You jest.”
“Does it look like I’m jesting?” I needed something . . . something to do with my hands. I needed a feckin’ drink. I shifted a bottle of puítin, not bothering with a glass. Fire scalded my throat, burning all the way down to my churning stomach.
Rían hopped to his feet, the book vanishing. “This is feckin’ brilliant.”
“What part of my wife being with another man is brilliant?” I snarled, drowning my rising panic with three more swallows. Keelynn was staying the night alone with another man. A man she loved. Why hadn’t I kept my cursed mouth shut?
Rían snorted, gesturing for the bottle. I took another drink before handing it over. “What were you going to do? Keep her? You were never part of the plan. Keelynn was always supposed to end up with Robert.”
Rían and his feckin’ plans.
“What can you offer her that Robert can’t?” he went on, shoving the bottle at my chest. “You know she loves him. You know he can give her a good home, a safe, quiet existence. They can grow old together, have children, and do all the other things mortals do to be happy.”
I wanted Keelynn to be happy. I really did.
I just wanted her to be happy with me.
A means to an end.
An escape from reality.