Page 153 of Override
His lips press into a thin line. He doesn’t answer. The silence does it for him.
“I kept telling myself you were protective,” I continue, each confession scraping something raw inside me. “That this was how you loved. That I needed to adjust because marriage was different from dating and our lives were complicated.”
“They are complicated.”
“My parents’ marriage is complicated.”
The moment I mention them, wariness enters his expression.
“My father has enemies. He has spent his entire life knowing someone might try to use the people he loves against him, and he has never once made my mother smaller so he could feel more in control.”
“This has nothing to do with them.”
“It has everything to do with them.”
“Maeve.” The warning in my name used to be enough. It still sends a shiver down my spine, but this time I recognize the feeling for what it is.
Fear. Not respect. Not love. Fear.
“If my father knew what was happening here, he would never have agreed to this marriage.”
Ronan’s face drains of color. There it is. The reaction is so immediate that it steals the next breath from my lungs.
For months, I have allowed him to convince me that my father would choose the alliance over me. That telling anyone would create consequences too large to survive. That even if they believed me, obligation would force them to send me back.
But Ronan is afraid. Not angry. Afraid. He knows exactly what my father would do. The truth moves through me with heartbreaking clarity. My family would have come. All I had to do was tell them.
“How long?” I ask.
His brow furrows. “What?”
“How long have you known my father would take me away if he found out?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.”
“He approved the marriage.”
“He approved the man you pretended to be.”
Ronan recoils. For the first time tonight, hurting him doesn’t make me rush to repair the damage.
“If my dad saw the cameras, if he knew you stopped me from visiting, if he knew you just put your hand around my throat…” My voice wavers, but I force the rest through. “He’d take me home.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“You’re emotional.”
“I want my parents.”
“Maeve, listen to yourself.”
“I want to go home.”
“You are not leaving.” The quiet certainty in his answer chills me more than if he had shouted.
