Page 73 of Alliance Bride
When she reached the fjord, part of her hoped to find Aevar there.
But he wasn’t.
Only fishermen, their nets catching the morning light.
She walked to the edge and stood in silence, letting the lapping water soothe her. Here, she prayed for strength, for peace, and for wisdom. She didn’t want their slow-blooming closeness to slip through her fingers. But she also didn’t know how to reach him through the weight he carried.
After a while, she turned back toward the village. She could return to the longhouse and wait for him to show up. Go about her day as if nothing was wrong. But her heart resisted. He was her husband. His burdens were hers now, whether he saw it that way or not. If they could not face things together, their marriage would always be strained and lacking anything more than the surface-level interest that had been growing between them.
With another whispered prayer, she veered toward the far edge of the village. Since he wasn’t at the fjord, she had one other guess where he might be. She slowed when she reached the stable but gathered her courage and walked inside. The familiar and comforting musk of straw and horses greeted her. Sure enough, halfway down the center aisle, Aevar stood at Vega’s stall, leaning against the door.
As she approached, he looked up. No tears streaked his face, but they glinted in his eyes, and the pain behind them stole her breath. Her earlier frustrations melted. He was the one who had lost. She could not blame him for his pain. And he had not asked to marry her. She had sought this marriage, and she had to accept whatever came with that.
“I’m very sorry about Thora and your daughter.”
His jaw flexed. “Her name was Brenna.”
“It’s a beautiful name.”
Silence fell again. He stared at the stall door, unmoving. Then his gaze lifted, hard now, and laden with grief.
“You say your God is loving and merciful. If that’s true, why did He kill them?” Anger and aching loss gave his voice a harsh edge.
Eadlyn swallowed past the lump welling in her throat.
“We live in a world that’s been broken by sin. God didn’t create it to be this way, but it is, and death is part of that.” She paused, searching for the right words. How did one comfort someone who did not have the hope of salvation to cling to in tragedy? “I don’t know why He allowed them to die. I don’t have the answer. But I believe He holds all things, even the ones that break us. Like a child trusting a good father, even when they don’t understand…I trust Him.”
Aevar scoffed and turned away. The sound of it cracked something inside her.
Her words didn’t matter.
Her faith didn’t matter.
And maybe…shedidn’t matter.
The thought struck like a stone, crushing her breath before she even braced for the impact. Maybe it had been wishful thinking. The walks, the soft glances, the gentle touches. They’d meant something to her, but perhaps to him, they had been no more than a passing fancy or obligation. Because that’s what she was, wasn’t she? A duty. A burden forced on him in place of the woman he’d loved.
Tears blurred her vision. She had offered the deepest part of herself—her belief, her comfort, her heart—and he had turned his back without even looking. She blinked the tears away with desperate force, angry with herself for letting them come.
“I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.” Her voice trembled. “I know you’d rather have Thora and Brenna. If there were a way I could give that back to you, I would.”
She hung her head and turned to leave, her heart breaking piece by piece. Maybe she’d been wrong to think she could stand beside him in his grief. Maybe she didn’t belong in this part of his life.
“Eadlyn.”
His voice stopped her, softer now. She hesitated but turned back. Gone was the anger. Only grief remained. He approached, his expression full of sorrow but no longer closed off.
“I am not stuck with you.” His hands found her waist, gentle and sure. “I chose to marry you. I do not regret it.”
Her breath caught. She grasped his arms, clinging to the truth in his eyes. “Neither do I.”
He sighed, remorse thickening his voice. “I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. I do want you. But sometimes…remembering what I lost…I fear living through that again.”
The words pierced deep. It wasn’t the past he was clinging to. It was the fear of losing what he had now. Losing her.
She held his gaze steadily. “I understand. And you can tell me when you’re hurting. Or afraid. Whatever it looks like, I’m your wife. I’m here to help you carry it.”
His eyes shone, and he pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers. She felt his breath ease and the tremor fade in his chest.
