Page 92 of How To Tempt A Bodyguard

She sat up, unable to contain her emotions. The blanket fell away. She turned to face him in the darkness, her vision blurred with tears she refused to shed.

"Did you consider," she said, her voice barely steady, "how I might feel? Watching you walk away with her?"

Matthew raised himself up slowly, exhaustion etched on his face. "I knew it wasn't... ideal."

"Ideal." She laughed bitterly. "You left me standing there. Your wife. While you went off with your former lover. In front of everyone."

"We have history. She had feelings. I owed her."

"You owed me." The words came out sharp. Shattered. "I'm your wife, Matthew. Not her."

"I know." He reached for her. She pulled away. "I'm sorry. I didn’t have time to think. I reacted."

Silence fell between them. Heavy. Suffocating.

"Is that the whole truth?" Florence asked quietly. "That we married for my protection only?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean—" She stopped. Steadied herself. "Was there a part of you that wanted this? That chose me for me, not because of our situation?" Her voice cracked. "That you might learn to love me? That you would break without me, as I would without you?"

The tears came then. She couldn't stop them. They spilled down her cheeks, hot and humiliating, and she hated herself for crying, hated that she'd become this woman who wept over a man who couldn't understand her most basic needs.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "You deserve better."

"That's not…" She choked on a sob. "That's not what I'm trying to say. You are a good man, Matthew. Maybe the best man I've ever known. But I'm in love with you." She pulled back, looked up at his face, blurred through her tears. "Do you love me? Even a little?"

"I don't know what you mean." His voice was flat. Not cold, confused. "Falling in love. I don't know what that's supposed to feel like."

She stared at him.

"I've never been loved, Florence." He said it simply, his voice raw. "My mother died when I was six. My father saw me as a tool. My brother wanted me dead. The women I've been with…" He shook his head. "That wasn't love. I know that much."

A knot formed in her chest at his words. She understood him a little more.

"I can't say words I don't know the meaning of." His voice was strained. "I won't lie to you. Not about this."

"Then what can you say?"

He raked his fingers through his hair, gripping them in his fist. When he spoke, his voice was rough.

"I'm here." He met her eyes. "I'm here, and I'm staying. I'm here to do my best for you. Whatever that means. However long it takes."

She waited. Hoping for more.

It didn't come.

"Wouldn't you say the same about your duty to me as my bodyguard?"

He paused. Then nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth of it.

The fight went out of her.

"That's all I have," he said quietly. "I'm sorry it's not enough."

Florence looked at him. She should be grateful. Should appreciate what he was offering.

Instead, she felt hollow.