Page 70 of Of Vows and Betrayal

“I’m so sorry for everything,” I say quietly, knowing she can’t hear me but needing to say it anyway. “But I’m going to protect you. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

I watch her sleep, my thoughts a tumultuous mix of guilt, love, and determination. I remember the way she looked at me the first time we met, the fire in her eyes and the strength in her spirit. She deserves a life free from this chaos, and I’m determined to give it to her, even if it means making sacrifices I never imagined.

“I love you,” I whisper, my heart aching. “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you, and I’ll keep loving you, no matter what.”

I gently release her hand and rest it on her stomach. I lean down and press a soft kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll make this right, Ophelia. I swear it.” With that vow, I settle into a chair beside the bed, keeping watch over the woman I love, ready to face the storm together.

Chapter 18

Ophelia

Iturn in bed, pulling the cover closer to me, Javier’s musky cologne wrapping around me. It’s comforting but also disorienting. I sit upright, my heart pounding.Dad!I touch my face and look at my fingers. There’s no blood there.

I get out of bed, the urgency to escape pushing me forward. I should not be here. I rush to the bathroom, the realization hitting me that I’m no longer in my bloody wedding dress but in Javier’s T-shirt instead.

My face is bare of blood, but I touch my cheek, where I had felt my father’s hot blood splatter. There’s nothing—my face is clean as if it was all a bad dream. Oh, how much do I wish it were all just a dream… a nightmare. Bile rises in my throat as the scene of the church unveils in front of my eyes. The outcome of the day was far worse than I could have ever imagined.

My hand trails to my neck, where I had felt the sharp pain before passing out, but there’s nothing. Panic rises. I need to get out of here.

I look down at my bare legs, Javier’s T-shirt stopping low on my thighs, low enough to pass for adress, but it’s not a good idea to go out like that. I rush to his walk-in closet, hoping to be gone before he comes back from wherever he is.

I find a pair of gray sweats that have a tie around the waist, and I roll them up a few times. I have no shoes, no phone, no bag, but right now, I don’t care. I’ll walk home if I need to—I just need to leave. I open his drawers and find a pair of socks. That will have to do. At least with this look, I’m pretty sure to be left alone on the street.

As I pull on the socks, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is a wild mess, and the oversized clothes hang awkwardly on my frame, but there’s a determination in my eyes that I haven’t seen in a long time. I need to get out of here, to find some semblance of control in this nightmare.

I slip quietly out of the walk-in closet and tiptoe to the door. My heart pounds in my chest as I reach for the handle, praying it doesn’t make a sound. The hallway is dark and silent, and I take a deep breath before stepping out.

I tiptoe across the living room, the floorboards slippery under the woolen socks. I catch my breath as I see the front door. Just a few more steps and I’ll be free.

“Good morning.”

I squeak and turn around, seeing Javier standing in the corner by the bay window in pajama pants, holding a cup of coffee in his hand.

“What are you doing?” His voice is calm, but his clenched jaw reveals his tension, making me pause.

He looks rough, with deep circles under his eyes, his fine lines far more prominent even in the lack of light. He may look at ease, but I see how his body is tensed, ready topounce. I glance at the door again, and if I know anything about the man in front of me—though I’m not certain anymore—it’s that he will not let this go without a fight.

Lie. Make him believe it’s okay.Once I’m out of here, I can forget I’ve ever met him.

“Hi. I didn’t know you were here. I just need to go home and check up on things. I’ll see you later?”

His eyes narrow a little, and he takes a sip of coffee as my heart pounds in my chest with my need to flee but also to jump on him and claw his skin off for destroying my life, my heart, everything. What I feel for him right now is almost suffocating. It’s pain; it’s hate, rage, and the need to wail and hurt. I’m not even sure how I’m still standing, as my whole body seems to be shaking.

“Is that right?” How can he sound so calm?

Because he’s a monster, my mind claims.Because he hates you and wants to torture you some more.

I manage a nod.

He sighs and shakes his head. He takes a couple of steps closer, and I mirror him, taking a couple of steps back to keep the same distance.

“You know what I think? That if I let you leave this apartment now, I’ll never see you again.” His voice softens, a hint of desperation seeping through.

That’s the plan,I say in my head but remain standing stoically.

“You don’t get it,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You’re not safe out there. Not now. Not after everything.”

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