Even more than my father.
“Let me remind you again, Julianna is my wife,” Killian said calmly, but his voice was laced with a silent warning. “And she will be staying with me. End of discussion.”
My father wasn’t one to accept defeat so easily. I could see the dark fury on his face. “How about we let Julianna choose where she wants to stay?”
“Julianna,” Killian said my name, keeping his back to me. His gaze didn’t waver from my father’s face. “Make your choice. Your father or me?”
I didn’t even have to think about it. That was an easy choice. I stood up and limped over to my husband. My fingers curled around his elbow and Killian’s lips twitched.
“Dad, please,” I started, only to pause at the look of utter betrayal on my father’s face. When he suggested for me to make a choice, he had been so sure I would choose him. But by choosing Killian, I had marked my father’s defeat.
And that made Bishop Romano bitter.
“Gracelynn would have chosen differently,” he muttered under his breath, loud enough for me to hear.
I winced and my stomach churned with nausea. Killian tensed beside me, but before he could say anything, I cleared my throat. Shoved away the pain my father caused with five simple words. I wanted to say that I had grown used to my father’s lack of concern for my emotional well-being, but even after so many years – it still hurt.
That he always saw me as a burden.
And that I was never his priority.
“I know you’re worried because you care,” I choked through the lump in my throat. “But I should go home with Killian. I trust him to keep me safe.”
“And there you go, Bishop. My wife has spoken,” Killian hissed.
He grasped my hand in his, lacing our fingers together to show our solid union before he tugged me out of my father’s office.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Julianna
I sat on the king-size bed, hands on my lap. The shower turned off and a few minutes later, Killian walked out with only a towel wrapped around his waist.
This was my first time staying at the Spencer Manor. While I thought I would have my own bedroom, like on the island, I had been wrong. Because the butler brought my suitcase to Killian’s room.
I waited for my husband to kick me out, but when he didn’t, it became clear that my suitcase wasn’t brought here by mistake.
Killian’s bedroom was elegant and immaculate. While I was used to something brighter and livelier, his room was all black and grey. Moody. But it suited him well.
The only thing fancy about the room was the crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the ceiling and the painting of a black horse running wild and free, attached to the wall over his headboard.
“We’re sharing a room?” I questioned, licking my dry lips.
“Yes,” he deadpanned, without elaborating further on that.
“Why?” My eyes followed him around his room as he stalked into his walk-in closet.
He came back out, wearing grey sweatpants. His chest was bare and his hair was still damp from his shower. “Because it’d be safer if you stay close to me,” Killian finally responded to my question.
He took a seat on the chair, on the opposite end of the room, and he stretched out his legs in front of him. We sat facing each other, the tension in the air thick and palpable.
We still haven’t acknowledged the fact that last night, after our midnight sex, we had somehow fallen asleep tangled together. It was a first and, coincidentally, that was the same night my memories came back to me.
As if it was meant to happen that way. For Killian to be there with me when I woke up from that horrid nightmare – to soothe me.
“It wasn’t my fault,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “The accident… I wasn’t drunk that night. It wasn’t my fault.”
This whole day had been a mess and I never got a chance to think or to acknowledge the emotions I had buried inside me.
The harsh realization was that… for three years, I bore the heavy burden of guilt and allowed it to stain my life because I thought I was the culprit – the one who killed my sister.
“But I was still the reason why we sneaked out that night.” I wiped my tears away. Hot anguish burned through me. “Maybe if… we hadn’t…”
“Come here,” Killian ordered, beckoning for me to come closer.
I went to him and his arm snaked out, grasping my hand in his and tugging me onto his lap. His body was strong and warm. Both dominating and comforting. I burrowed my face into the crook of his shoulders, inhaling his fresh and natural manly scent.
His lips brushed against my temple, so tenderly, it surprised me. “You have to forgive yourself first and that’s when you will find true salvation.”