I knew.
I knew this was the end for us, just like I always said it would be. Just like I always feared. No matter how much I want him. No matter how much it feels like tearing my own heart out with my bare hands.
No one else dies because of me.
Not for love. Not for some fairytale ending we were never meant to have. Wherever my prison takes me, I’ll walk into it willingly. I will sacrifice myself for him, for Felix, for the guys.
Over and over again.
Roman must take my silence as answer enough, his laugh is sharp and humourless, as it pulls me out of my musings.
“Right,” he nods “you didn’t did you?”
“I didn’t what?”
“You didn’t tell him to go to hell. You didn’t tell him you’d choose me.”
“It’s complicated,” my chest tightens. “This isn’t about choosing you.”
“That’s bullshit Fae and you know it, I told my mum, my dad, fuck I even told Quinn where she stood.”
“You shouldn’t have,” I say softly. “Quinnis the right person for you.”
“Fuck that,” he snaps “you are the right person for me, you just need to choose me back.”
“No, Roman,” I state as heat flares through me at him not understanding, “this is about survival.”
“Then we survive god damnit; together.”
He steps closer to me like we’re magnets drawn to one another and I lift my palm to rub my heart at the pain there.Trying to find some resolve, I shake my head, already feeling the crack forming.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
“If I marry Fisher, you get to live.”
My hands tremble. I hate that they tremble as I watch as Romans jaw ticks.
“Over my dead body.”
“That’s the point!” I explode. “You don’t get a say in that if you’re in a grave!”
The room feels smaller, the air thinner as I take in his eyes. He has these flickers of humanity saved just for me and there’s a softness in his expression that makes my resolve feel like glass. I watch as he runs his hand down his face as he collects his thoughts. He nods to himself before taking in a deep gulp of air.
“Okay fine, we will get married sooner rather than later.”
“What?” I blink at him.
“We get married. Today or to tomorrow. I don’t care. We make it legal. We make it binding. He can’t force you to marry someone else if you’re already my wife.”
For a moment I just stare at him. Of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t it. A tremor moves through my hands, no matter how hard I lock my fingers. His eyes track the movement and his teeth grind. The fear of him doing something stupid feels suffocating in my lungs as anxiety claws up my throat, tightening until every breath feels borrowed. Has he not been listening?
“You cannot be serious.” I demand.
“I’m dead serious.”
“That’s your solution?” I laugh but it sounds hysterical even to my own ears. “Marriage? Like this is some fairytale loophole?”