A Vow Of Hate

His eyes darted to me once, over the unmarred side of my face before his gaze lingered on my left side, my scars – before looking away and at the wall beside my head. His arm was rested on his bent knee and I watched him clenching and unclenching his fist.

“I wanted to tell you the truth, so many times,” I said, my voice breaking. “Especially after our engagement party. But it was never the right moment. I tried; I really did. You have to believe me, Killian.”

The accident happened exactly a week after our engagement party. I had seven days to tell him the truth, and every time it was on the tip on my tongue, I swallowed my bitter lies.

I thought I would have more time. We still had two weeks before my sister’s plan to run away and four months before our wedding.

The night of the accident, it was completely out of character for both of us to sneak out.

I never had any friends. Hell, I didn’t even know what girls my age would talk about or what they’d do for fun. I was confined within the four walls of my room and that was my life. I only had Selene and Gracelynn…

Until Killian.

Gracelynn was planning to run away the next week and we didn’t know when we’d see each other again or if ever… We wanted good memories, something fun that normal sisters would do together. Sneaking out, going to a party, just… living. Instead of being a proper lady, sitting quietly and nodding, smiling when we were told to, speaking when we were expected to.

For just one night, I had wanted to experience something other than the confines of the Romano’s manor. I wanted to live beyond my father’s expectations.

Just one night.

With my sister.

Only for it to end in tragedy.

When Gracelynn had gotten the invitation, she had simply refused. She wasn’t interested in parties and getting drunk anymore. There were more important issues for her to worry about. Simon and her baby – and their plan to elope. I was the one who convinced her to go the party, thinking it would be a good idea to get her mind off things, to be less stressed.

If only we hadn’t…

I wanted to defend my impulsive decision, but at the end, it wouldn’t change what happened that night.

I wiped my tears, my fingers brushing over the jagged lines of my scars. I never thought this day would come, where I would stand in front of Killian without my veil.

Where my lies had come undone and I was bare in front of him – my scars on display and my secrets no longer hidden.

If he had cut open my chest and tore out my heart – it would have probably hurt less.

“Say something,” I begged him, when the silence became too heavy to bear. My fingers curled into the bedsheet, where I was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Please.”

Killian worked his jaw, his fists clenching and unclenching, but didn’t respond to my pleading.

“Tell me you hate me,” I cried. “Scream at me. Say something, please!”

“Why?” he questioned, his voice composed. It surprised me, but I had learned to fear Killian’s calm over his rage. There was something serene about his calm – quiet and peaceful, like the eye of a hurricane before it forces you to collapse under the weight of the destruction it brings.

His calm should never be trusted.

It was deceitful.

Like me.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth after the accident?”

“There was no way for me to get out of this marriage,” I explained. “I couldn’t go against my father and I knew how important this union was for our families. But I thought that once we were married, it would be easier to make you hate me more than you already did and we’d eventually go our separate ways – that way, you would be able to move on. I wanted to make sure that you could move on. To find love again. With another woman, who deserved you more. No lies, no deceit, no secrets.”

The ache in my chest grew more intense and I practically gagged at how bitter the words tasted on my tongue. It hurt, confessing that truth out loud. To tell Killian that I wanted him to move on with another woman…

For my love was a catastrophe.

It didn’t matter that it killed me, the mere thought of my husband being with another woman. Touching her. Bedding her. Loving her.

It was so unfair, but our love story was just that.

Something tragic.

An incomplete story, with missing pages and a dubious ending.

“That should have been my choice. Not yours,” Killian hissed. He surged to his feet in a quick motion and straightened to his full height, imposing and menacing. There was a deadly glint in his dark gaze that worried me. “You took that choice away from me. You don’t get to choose when or how I move on, Julianna. You should have told me the truth and I would have decided if I still wanted you or not, despite the lies and the scheming. You didn’t give me a chance to choose you!”