“You’re avoiding the question—I’m familiar with that trick.”
He’s right. But try as I might, I can’t think of why Alex would ask an uncomfortable question like that. Is he hoping to fight again? Is he trying to start an argument?”
“I wouldn’t openly invite that kind of turmoil into my life,” I finally answer. “It’s difficult enough as it is.”
Alex nods, his frown deepening.
Once again, I’ve hurt him.
Hoping to lighten the mood, I brush away a stray leaf that’s fallen on the shoulder of his waistcoat. “But my answer doesn’t matter.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the only human I’ve ever been fond of—and you have a theater to run, and I have a throne to claim. Even if another man were willing to return to Auvenridge with me, I wouldn’t want him.” I pause. “Because he wouldn’t be you.”