Page 279 of By His Vow

“What did you do?”

His words cut through me like a knife straight through my chest.

“Me?” I ask, spinning on him.

“Yes. You. What did you do to make her run?”

His expression hardens. There is no doubt in his mind that this is my fault.

“I didn’t…fuck,” I breathe. “I didn’t do anything. I?—”

“She wouldn’t just leave, KC. All these years, she’s put up with all the shit Dad threw at her. She’s got almost everything she always wanted. She agreed to this fucking sham of a relationship, for fuck’s sake. She wouldn’t run for no reason.”

I stand there feeling more useless than I ever have in my life before. My chest heaves and my fists curl at my sides.

He’s right; she wouldn’t just bail. She’s been through too much to get this far to throw it all away. But that doesn’t mean I did anything to push her to it.

“Everything was fine. I’ve no idea what—” My fingers thread through my hair and I pull until it hurts, desperately trying to make sense of this.

Sure, I’ve been working all the hours of the day recently, but she understands why. Hell, she encourages me and supports me. Does all the things a good partner should do when life is stressful. Or at least in my opinion, that’s what they should do.

What they shouldn’t do is hand in their resignation out of the blue and fucking disappear without any warning.

“I told you not to fucking hurt her,” Miles growls angrily.

I stare at his dark, furious eyes and swallow nervously.

I want to argue and tell him that I haven’t hurt her. But we’d both know that I’d be lying.

This whole fucking situation I agreed to before Jonathan even passed is hurting her, let alone anything I’ve done since.

Sharing those images of us at the cabin with the press was a stupid move. And I’m pretty sure it’s something I’m going to regret for the rest of my days.

Our relationship might have started as a contract, a business deal, but that isn’t how we should be treating it. It’s a marriage, a union, two people who have to live together and trust each other.

She’s my partner, my other half.

My wife.

She’s…

Fuck.

I scrub my hand down my face as my heart continues to race.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here, man. I’m trying. I’m fucking trying.”

“You’re telling me,” he mutters under his breath, not helping the situation in the slightest.

“She won’t have gone far,” I reason before marching back out to the bedroom, noting the absence of the ball of ginger fluff that’s usually taken up residence in the middle.

“Fluffpuff,” I say as Miles steps up beside me.

“W-what?”

“The fucking cat,” I mutter. “It’s gone.”

“Griz?”