Page 43 of Devoted
“Like a jealous husband.” She joined me on the terrace, a smile tugging at her mouth before she sighed. “I owe you an apology. Several of them, actually.”
“You apologizing once is rare enough to qualify as a miracle. I wouldn’t know what to do with several.”
Her laugh carried across the terrace.
“I was awful that night of the ball.” She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I was humiliatingly crass and intent on winning you back with zero regard to the fact you were married.” She paused. “And in love.” Her smile grew sad. “Yes, even then, I saw the truth, you big oaf. And that’s when I realized what I was doing was… wrong.”
“I’m sure Rocco didn’t give you a choice. He never did. Your father had a point to make and a crowd to show off for.”
Because that’s what Valeria’s life always came down to.
Her fucking father.
Rocco kept her dependent on his money and leashed to him through small, cruel manipulations she hadn’t seen—or hadn’t wanted to see. There had always been a goodness to Valeria her father hadn’t managed to strip away, an independence he couldn’t quite crush, and right now, I was seeing that side of her blossom.
“We always have a choice; sometimes they’re just… hard. The truth is, after years of making wrong choices, I’d reached the point where I could barely recognize the difference between wrong and right anymore. But that night, I knew exactly what I wanted.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“I want what you have. What she has. What you all have.”
Right then, there were a lot of things I could have said, but I settled on, “You don’t owe me an apology, Valeria. What happened is in the past, and we both know why you acted that way. Consider yourself forgiven.”
“Moving on then,” she shrugged. “Emberline is good for you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy, and knowing you’re happy… makes me happy. Or at least, it gives me hope that happiness exists in this shit world of ours instead of a made-up thing created by poets and romance writers.”
My chest clenched unexpectedly; hadn’t I once believed the same thing? Hadn’t I been just as jaded and broken and so determined to burn this world to ash, I’d never considered there might be something left here that was good and worth living for?
I’d given up on everything… until Emberline.
“Truth be told, I’m a little afraid of your wife.” Valeria raised a perfect brow. “She’s fierce.”
“That’s one word for it.” My lips curved of their own accord, my chest filling with warmth until I was sure the godsdamned thing might burst.
“Stubborn, then.” Valeria side-eyed me. “Terrifying, most definitely.”
Terrifying.
Yes, Emberline terrified me to the core.
My heart lurched as I remembered how empty life had been before her, how each day was now full of endless possibilities. My wife terrified me more than death itself, and I would not trade a single second of our pretend marriage away.
Nor would I have equated terrifying with love, but here I was.
I laughed. “Gods, don’t tell her that, or she’ll just get more terrifying, and she’s all I can handle, as it is. But thank you,” I added quietly. “Clearing the air between us… helps.”
Her fingers danced along the balustrade, a sure sign of nerves. “I never thanked you.”
“You did, last night, in a grand speech your father ruined by demanding our immediate executions.” What a fucking asshole. If I could relive one thing from the past week, I would have left Rocco rotting in that cell.
“Well, I never would have allowed that. And this is just between you and me. Thank you for rescuing a male you despise, who has done terrible things, and who showed not an ounce of gratitude. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry he’s your father.”
A poor consolation, but words were all I had to offer. This felt good, though, clearing the air between us. I’d always admired Valeria, trapped inside a prison she couldn’t escape, too content with her life to even see the bars around her most of the time.
Well, she saw them now.
Not only did she see them, she’d bent them backward and escaped her cage. I couldn’t wait to see what she did next, now that she was free.
