My nails dig into the ribbon, but I soon unclench them. “Really?”
“You know, our marriage was also arranged.”
“It was?” How come none of the articles mentioned that?
That’s the second miss on your part, Teal.
“Yes. His father and mine were business partners, but here’s the plot twist.” She leans in to whisper. “Edric was supposed to marry my eldest sister, Céline.”
“Oh.”
“I know. I kind of stole my sister’s fate.” She laughs, the sound gentle and non-intrusive. “But there’s another plot twist — my sister eloped with Papa’s guard, like in a soap opera, and I had to save the family’s honour by marrying this arrogant Englishman Papa brought to our house. I hated Edric so much back then. He was too proud and controlling, and wouldn’t take no for an answer while I was a free spirit.”
I’m caught off guard by her words. “You hated him?”
She rolls her eyes. “To death.”
“Then how did you end up marrying him?”
A sly smile lifts her lips. “I destroyed his walls and found the man under the surface, not the one he shows to the public, and that man inside is the one I never knew I needed. We’ve been married for twenty-three years, and they’ve been the happiest years of my life.”
If they’ve been married for twenty-three years and Ronan is eighteen, then they stayed childless for several years. I wonder why. Edric is the type of man who would make sure his rotten legacy lives on, so I’d have imagined they got married less than a year before Ronan’s birth.
I keep the question to myself because I’d sound awkward as fuck if I voiced it.
“That’s why I want you to keep an open mind, chérie. You never know what you’ll find unless you destroy some walls.”
What is she suggesting, exactly? That I knock down her son’s walls? If that’s the case then it’s already happening — only it’s not in the romantic way she’s hoping for.
And he doesn’t know it yet.
“Bonsoir.”
My shoulders stiffen at the sound of the voice that’s starting to appear in my dreams — not my nightmares, my fucking dreams.
Ronan strides in through the balcony’s doorway, still wearing his uniform, minus the tie and jacket. The top buttons of his shirt are open, hinting at the bare skin I once rubbed all over while —
I internally shake my head to rid it of that image.
He leans in and presses a kiss to his mother’s temple. It’s soft, tender, and Charlotte sighs in delight.
“You look beautiful, Mother.” He takes her small hands in his and kisses the knuckles.
“It’s all thanks to Teal.” Charlotte motions at me then at her dress and makeup with pride.
My cheeks heat.
Damn it. Am I blushing? I don’t even do blushing.
“Is that so?” Ronan fixes me with a glare. “Don’t ruin my mother’s face with your black kink.”
“That’s rude,” Charlotte scolds.
I pretend his words don’t jab as I run my finger over the containers of the makeup. If his mother weren’t here, I would stab him in the eye with a brush handle.
“I’m just kidding.” He grins at his mum.
“That’s not something to joke about, mon chou.” She rises up on her tiptoes to stroke his hair back.