(Selene's POV)
I had every right to turn him away. Every reason to lock the door, to tell him to sleep off the stench of wine in the stables where prideful men belong. But I didn't.
Maybe I was too tired. Maybe I pitied him. Or maybe—just maybe—I missed him in a way I wasn't willing to admit..
He stood there like a ghost at my door, drunk yet hollow. His eyes were filled with something wretched and human. Clearly, it was desperation.
When I didn't answer his plea, he simply sat on the divan across the room, his coat slipping off one shoulder, his breathing uneven.
"I'll stay over there," he said, grumbling things I couldn't understand.
I didn't argue.
I prepared the cot for myself on the floor, away from the bed I'd once shared with him. I didn't want to be close. Not to the version of him that carried the scent of smoke and the awefully strong stench on his collar. But I still couldn't bring myself to abandon the room entirely.
The silence between us was louder than any argument we'd ever had.
As the night dragged on, I turned my back to him and tried to sleep. The darkness clung to the air like fog, and every now and then, I heard him shift—a quiet rustle of fabric, a breath too long held. He didn't speak again.
Yet somehow, knowing he was there, in that vulnerable stillness, made it harder to hate him.
Maybe I was just weak like that.
———
When morning came, soft light filtered through the curtains, washing the room in a pale gold. I blinked awake to the sound of clinking porcelain and hushed voices.
Theodore.
He stood by the small table near the window, freshly bathed, hair damp and combed back, the buttons of his shirt neatly done to the collar. Steam rose from a teacup beside a delicate plate—he was arranging breakfast like a man who had always done it, even though I knew he never had.
"You're awake," he said when he saw me sit up, a tentative smile tugging at his lips.
"I didn't think you'd still be here," I muttered.
He looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. "Anna told me where the tea was. I wanted to... do something. Thought it might help."
He walked over and held out the cup, palms steady. His gaze met mine—soft, cautious.
I took it wordlessly.
The tea was warm. Fragrant. Comforting.
"How are you feeling?" I asked finally.
"Better than I deserve," he replied, lowering himself onto the armrest of the chair.
I didn't reply to that. What was I supposed to say? That he deserved worse? That I still hated him? Or that part of me didn't want this warmth between us to fade again?
A faint knock interrupted us. Anna peeked in, smiled when she saw me, and carried in a small tray of fruit.
But behind her trailed the bane existence of my despair.
Alice Eugenia.
Of course.
The moment her eyes landed on Theodore—softened, relaxed, hair still a little damp from his morning wash—she paused. Then smiled, slow and polite, as if she had been expected all along.
"Good morning, Your Grace," she said sweetly, her voice curling around the room like perfume. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"You are," I said flatly. Frustration and sarcasm are rising within me.
Theodore stood then, quick and awkward. "Alice, this isn't—"
"Oh, I only came to check on you." She glided past Anna and placed a hand on his sleeve, far too familiar. "You weren't at the main house, and the Duchess was worried. She said you looked rather... pale when you returned."
I set down the teacup quietly.
The warmth I had allowed myself to feel moments ago had gone bitter in my chest.
"Thank you for your concern," I said evenly. "But as you can see, he is quite alive. You may report that back."
Alice's eyes sparkled like she'd just won a game no one else was playing.
"I'll leave you two, then," she said, her tone falsely gracious. "But I hope to see you at lunch, Your Grace. Perhaps we can discuss that new shipment you were reviewing."
She left the room, steps light, intentions heavier than stone.
The door closed behind her and
Theodore remained still.
"She shouldn't have come here," he said finally.
"Well she did," I murmured, standing. "And now you can go discuss business and shipments over fine silverware. I'm sure she'd be delighted."
I didn't wait for his reply.
I wasn't angry—at least not in the way I used to be. Anger once burned bright, loud and full of fire. Now it was quiet. Like a candle flickering low at the end of the wick, just enough to keep me warm but never enough to light the whole room.
Behind me, I heard Theodore move. He didn't call out. He didn't chase me. That, somehow, stung worse.
I stepped out into the hallway, cold air brushing along my arms. The annex always held a different silence than the main estate. Here, there were no judgmental eyes, no politics—only wind gushing and birds' harmony. But somehow, the echo of her voice still clung to the walls.
Alice Eugenia.
The name itself curled in my mouth like something spoiled. She hadn't even bothered to mask her intentions. She'd smiled in my presence as though I were a guest in my own home, as if I was the one being tolerated.
I walked down the corridor aimlessly, arms crossed as if I could hold myself together just a little longer. Why was it so easy for her? To stand there, to touch him in front of me? And why was it so easy for him to let her?
No, that was unfair. He had pulled back. He had looked guilty.
But guilt did not equal love..
And I didn't need a man filled with guilt—I needed one filled with action.
The tea. The breakfast. The apology in his eyes.
They were attempts.
But I was no longer the woman who could be won with gestures alone.
If he wanted my heart again, he would need to earn every fractured piece of it.
Piece by painful piece.
And I wasn't sure how many I had left to give.
If he wanted a month, he would have to earn each day of it.
Starting now.