The Broken Vows: Part 2 – Chapter 89
Celeste doesn’t say a word as she gets ready for bed, but the air between us is filled with unspoken questions. I run a hand through my hair as I sit up in bed, both frustrated and worried beyond belief. I’m not sure what I’d rather have — this heavy silence, or the way we used to argue, back when we coated ourselves in malice to protect our broken hearts from further damage.
My wife doesn’t even look at me as she slips into bed wearing a red, silky nightgown that’s rapidly becoming my favorite. “Just ask,” I murmur, unable to take it.
Her gaze cuts to mine, and she hesitates before turning to face me, her beautiful eyes red. She looks as tired as I am, insecurity and heartache radiating off her. It kills me to see her like this, especially when I didn’t do anything to deserve it. “Is she the woman from Dion’s wedding?”
I nod hesitantly, somehow feeling like I did something wrong. This whole situation is maddening, and it reminds me of the way we were after Lily died. She’d continuously question me, and as time passed, I became more and more scared to say something wrong, even though I was innocent.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me about her?”
I sigh and cross my arms, drawing her gaze to the tattoo on my chest. “Honestly, Celestial? It never came up. When she first started working on the rose garden, you and I were barely on speaking terms. And after? Well, to be perfectly honest with you, it just didn’t occur to me to tell you something I considered completely irrelevant. She’s not quite a gardener, but to me, she might as well be. She’s just someone I employ, Celeste, like our housekeeper, and the thousands of people who work for us at Windsor Hotels.”
She looks like she doesn’t believe me, and I don’t know what to do. I hate feeling so helpless and seeing that distrust in her eyes. Once upon a time, there was such unwavering faith and trust between us. I genuinely believed nothing could come between us back then, not even my grandmother. The more time passes, the clearer it becomes that we’ll never be able to return to that.
“So throughout our entire marriage, you’ve been spending time with her in the observatory?” Her voice breaks, and I watch her eyes flicker with torment as countless scenarios run through her mind. “I thought… I didn’t…”
I stare up at the ceiling, my heart aching for everything we’ve lost. “Don’t do this,” I beg. “Please, Celeste. I can’t do this with you again.”
“Just… just tell me you didn’t cheat on me, Zane.”
I turn to look at her, my heart heavy. “I’ve said that before, and it didn’t matter then. I’m not sure it will now, Celeste.” I bury my face in my hands and take a deep breath before facing my wife again, the pain in her eyes tearing me apart. “I didn’t cheat on you, Celeste. Never have, never will.”
She nods and draws her knees to her chest, her posture vulnerable. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I don’t want to be this way either, but I just… for years, I thought I’d missed the signs, and when I saw you just now…”
I look away, unsure of what to say. “I get it,” I murmur. “Sitting here with you just reminds me of the past, and the countless times we’ve done this before.” I smile humorlessly as I turn my face toward her. “You want to talk about missing the signs? I saw your expression in the observatory just now, and I instantly wondered how you’d make me pay for something I didn’t do all over again, just like you did back then. My mind immediately replayed all the times I’d begged you to believe in me, only for you to turn around and stab me in the back when all I’ve ever done is love you.”
“Zane,” she whispers, her voice breaking.
I let my eyes fall closed and take a steadying breath, feeling oddly numb despite the dull ache in my chest. “Where do we go from here, Celeste? I can’t keep doing this with you, and fuck, it kills me to admit it because I wish it wasn’t true, but you and I? Celestial, we’re not happy together.” She begins to cry in earnest, and I reach for her, unable to take her tears.
She comes willingly, and I hold her in my arms, my own heart breaking alongside hers. “Trying not to be unhappy isn’t the same as genuinely being happy,” I whisper, and she nods, her arms wrapping around me as she straddles me. We sit together like that, unable to look each other in the eye. “Tell me, Celeste. Do you truly believe we can regain the kind of love we used to have? We used to be a united front, and look at us now. You’re convinced I’m cheating on you with our botanist after observing me working alongside her for all of five seconds, and I’m sitting here terrified you’ll find a way to hurt me for it.”
My wife looks into my eyes then, her gaze searching. “I want to,” she whispers. “I want to believe in us, Zane.”
I cup her face and swipe at her tears with my thumbs, my heart heavy. “But do you? You couldn’t even believe in me long enough to ask me what was going on. I saw it in your expression, Celeste. You condemned me without even giving me a chance to defend myself. Again.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, choking back a sob. “I just… I wasn’t thinking clearly, Zane.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that she wasn’t thinking clearly then either, but I bite back the words. “I love you,” I tell her instead. “I love you, Celeste, but love was never the problem between us. You don’t trust me, and no matter how hard I try, I don’t think I’ll ever trust you again either.”
I drop my forehead to hers, and fuck, it hits me then. Even when I’ve got her in my arms, I miss her. I miss what we used to have, and it devastates me to know we’ll never regain that.
Celeste presses her palm against my chest and slides the other around the back of my neck. “Are we just trying to force something into existence?” she asks, her voice trembling. “Are we holding on to something that isn’t there anymore?”
I look away, unable to give her the answer she’s looking for. Celeste squeezes her eyes closed. Her long lashes flutter when she looks at me, her gaze resigned. “It’s over between us, isn’t it?”
My heart clenches painfully as I look into my wife’s eyes, unsure what to say, what to even think. “I don’t know,” I murmur. “I desperately want to try to make things work, but maybe we shouldn’t. We can’t forcibly fix things, Celeste, no matter how much either of us wants to.”