"I hate you now."
His jaw hardens. "No, you don’t."
"Oh, so now you’re telling me how to feel toward you?"
"Let me help you, Isla. Please."
I hold up my hand. "Has it occurred to you that, perhaps, I need to do this on my own, for my own self-confidence?"
"But you can do it with me by your side, to shield you from the worst."
A part of me understands. And maybe he’s right. Maybe it doesn’t have to be as much of a struggle as it would be if I were on my own. Maybe I don’t have to isolate myself the way I have the last few years. Either way, I need time to think this through.
I rub at my temple. "Let me go, Liam."
He holds my gaze, and he must see how serious I am, for his face falls. The skin around his eyes tightens. The color fades from his features. He looks like he’s lost his best friend, and everything he holds dear in his world. I never thought I’d see this powerful, dominant man brought to his knees.
This is what having a condition like mine does. It not only affects me, but it also affects everyone I come in contact with. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to keep it to myself. It felt simpler that way. It was also the more cowardly way to go.
I don’t have to discuss it with anyone or explain the intricacies of how I deal with it. I don’t need to have any confrontations with anyone about what it means for the quality of my life. I mean, it makes things more difficult on a day-to-day basis, but I can manage it. I’m not dying. I don’t have cancer, although, invariably, that’s what many assume when they see a woman with a bald head. I know it; I’ve read the stories of other alopecia survivors, so I have a general idea about what to expect, now that I’ve exposed myself to the world.
And it would only be helpful to have Liam on my side. Someone with his power and influence could smoothen the way for me. Even more importantly, he would be emotional support.
But maybe I don’t want that. Maybe it’s time for me to face this on my own. To prove that I’m stronger than I thought. I haven’t come this far to hide behind the protection of another, even if that man is my husband… I mean, my fake husband. The man I love.
If I do this on my own, it means giving up the love of my life, and I might hate myself later. But if I come to depend on him, if I don’t do this my way, I’ll lose all respect for myself. Our relationship started out as a mutually beneficial agreement, but depending on him will put me in his debt, and I can’t accept that.
“Liam I don’t want to hurt you—”
“Then don’t.” His shoulders bunch. He glares at me, and I know he has an inkling of where my thoughts are at.
“Don’t do this, Isla,” he growls.
“I have to, baby.” I swallow. “I need to do this on my own terms, Liam. It’s the only way I can prove to myself that this doesn’t define me. I need to stop blaming myself for something that has always been beyond my control. I need to stop putting myself down for my condition.”
The skin around his eyes tightens. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but I shake my head. "You remember what you said earlier about not giving away my power to anyone else?"
He nods.
"I’m claiming my power, Liam."
43
Liam
I let her walk out on me. Again. This time, she made me promise I wouldn’t shield her from the media storm she unleashed. My beautiful, gorgeous, strong wife left, but only after extracting a promise I wasn’t going to shield her, that I’d stand by as word of our video spread, and as comments began to pile up on her social media feed.
My fingers trembled as I scrolled down the thread. My palms sweated, and my mouth dried. I was never this nervous… Not even when I faced down the bastards who kidnapped me. At least then, I was taking my fate into my own hands. This is a thousand times worse—having to bear witness to the world reacting to her disclosure, and not being able to do anything about it. At least, it seemed like no one had seen her post yet.
That was half an hour ago. She’s only been gone for thirty minutes, and already, I’m pacing my office. Already, my muscles are tight, my guts so knotted I’m sure I’m going to be physically sick. How am I going to stay away from her physically, when everything inside of me insists I stay by her side, hold her hand, comfort her, and distract her? When I know, with one phone call, I can track down anyone who dares speak ill about her and shut them down in the online space.
There’s nothing more frustrating than knowing you have the power but are not allowed to wield it. There’s nothing more humbling than realizing all the money in the world that could help me to help her is off limits, and only because she insisted. Because I can’t go against my word. I promised her. Doesn’t mean I’m going to sit here silently without doing something… But what?
My phone vibrates with an incoming call. I answer it.
"Don’t do it," Hunter says even before his face appears on the screen.
"Don’t do what?"