Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Her words slam into me more painfully than if she’d have slapped me, and I find myself reeling backward.
She tries to free herself, but I tighten my grip, processing. Not understanding.
“Did you hear me?” I ask, voice hoarse and not like my own.
“Yeah. I heard you. And I saw what you did. I saw you sign that piece of paper agreeing to what I wanted for a change, and then I watched you tear it up because what I wanted never truly mattered to you, did it? It never has. Let me go.” She twists against my grip, pushing at my chest.
“Did you fucking hear me?”
“Did you just sign it to humor me? Were you having a good laugh, yet another one, at my expense? I mean, all you need from me is my I do, right? And once we are married, you can do whatever you want. I know that. You can do whatever you want whenever you want no matter what we agreed on. I mean, look at us. Here and now. If I want to walk out of here, are you going to let me go?”
“Things have changed, Ophelia. Last night—"
“Would you let me walk out of here?” she demands.
“No.”
“Exactly,” she says, anger, hurt, and frustration warring in her eyes, making them burn a deep amber. “At least don’t be cruel, Silas.”
“I’m not being—”
“Let go.”
“Listen to me, Ophelia.”
“Let go of me, Silas.”
“No. Fuck! Something happened last night.”
“Let go!”
“Fucking listen.” I shake her once. “It’s your father.”
She stops fighting, then blinks up at me as if not quite sure what to do.
The chapel door opens in that moment, and Father Emiliano and Lourdes appear, alarm in their expressions.
“Silas,” Father Emiliano says.
I pull Ophelia closer out of instinct because something is wrong.
“They know you’re here,” he says. “It’s all over the news.”
“What happened to my dad?” Ophelia asks, voice small.
I keep hold of her with one hand, scrub my chin with the other. “We need to get this done. Now,” I say, not sure if it’s to Ophelia or to Father Emiliano or what.
Father Emiliano’s eyes move from me to Ophelia, taking in the fact that she is not standing beside me of her own free will.
“Silas, I told you, I won’t do it without her consent.”
“You’ll have it.” Any way I need to get it. I turn to Ophelia. “There was an attack in the prison last night.”
Her face goes white this time. “What attack?”
“Your father was stabbed.”
“What?”
“He’s going to be all right.” I rush to fill in. “He’s in the hospital.”
“I have to go to him.”
“I’ll take you. I promise. As soon as I can. But Ophelia, we need to do this now. The game has changed. The stakes are too high. Too dangerous.”
“It’s not a game, Silas. It’s never been a game. This is my life. Please let me go to him. Please.”
“Agree to this. Say the words, and I’ll make sure you see him. Whether you believe me or not, I am doing this to keep you safe. And all those things you think about me, well, you’re not right—not about all of it at least. Not about me being cruel. Being like Sullivan Fox. And I’ll prove it to you, after. Once you’re safe, I’ll prove it to you by letting you go. I promise.”
“Whatever you say, whatever you promise, whether I believe you or not, I have no choice but to consent.”
I can’t give her a choice. Doesn’t she see that?
She shakes her head, and the way she looks at me wounds worse than her words did earlier. But I can’t think about that now. Can’t focus on that. Because saving Ophelia is what matters and if I need to be the villain to do it, so be it.
“Say yes, Ophelia.”
She looks from me to Father Emiliano and, after a long moment, closes her eyes and nods.
Father Emiliano sighs a heaving breath and squeezes her shoulder as he makes his way to the altar. Lourdes follows him, and we turn to face that crucifix. Father Emiliano begins the ceremony.
7
OPHELIA
My mind whirls. My father was attacked. Why and by whom?
A sound comes in the distance. It grows louder. A helicopter. I glance up at Silas. Could it be the police here for him? And if it is, how do I feel about it? Probably not how I should feel.
“Do you, Silas, take Ophelia, to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, to honor her all the days of your life?” Father Emiliano asks.
I notice one word is missing.
Love.
He isn’t promising to love me. What he told me earlier, that he’ll marry for love, why did he say that? Why say it at all?
“I do,” Silas says.
Father Emiliano turns to me and repeats the question. I don’t look at Silas when I nod and mumble my I do.