Chapter 338: v4 - 39: the truth I

Chapter 338: v4 Chapter 39: the truth I

(Marian POV)

For a moment, Marian could not move.

His hand was still wrapped around hers.

She looked down at it.

Then she looked up.

And that was when she saw the tear.

It had slipped down his cheek without him seeming to notice.

Marian stared.

Another followed.

Her anger faltered.

Not disappeared.

Not forgiven.

But faltered.

Because she knew that face.

She knew him.

She had loved that man.

Once, she had loved him so completely that losing him had felt like losing a part of herself.

She had buried that pain.

She had learned to live beyond it.

She had told herself that it belonged to another life.

But seeing him standing before her now, tears on his face, something deep inside her twisted painfully.

Then his fingers tightened gently around hers.

And he pulled her toward him.

Marian went completely still.

His arms closed around her.

She didn’t move.

She didn’t know what to do.

She had come here to confront him.

She had come here demanding answers.

She had spent days imagining this moment and preparing herself for anger, for explanations, for anything except this.

But now she was standing in his arms.

She didn’t push him away.

She couldn’t.

She could feel his warmth.

His breath against her hair.

His hand resting against her back.

The faint tremor in his chest.

And suddenly, after six years of remembering him only in pieces, he was here.

Really here.

Holding her.

Then his voice came quietly above her.

"Marian, I’m back."

Something inside her tightened.

Her eyes burned.

She blinked once.

It didn’t help.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

Then another.

Marian froze.

Why was she crying?

She quickly wiped them away, almost irritated by the betrayal.

It was only because she had spent six years believing he was dead.

That was all.

Anyone would react that way.

She had not come here for this.

She had come for answers.

For closure.

That was why she was here.

She drew a slow breath, trying to steady herself.

She was married.

She needed to remember that.

Whatever this strange ache in her chest was, she didn’t need to examine it.

She didn’t want to.

Marian pulled back.

The warmth of his arms left her, and she immediately stepped away, putting some distance between them.

Cassian let her go.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Her anger was still there.

It had simply softened, leaving her more shaken than furious.

Marian looked at him.

"You..."

Her voice came out unsteady.

She frowned, annoyed at herself.

"You insufferable man."

Cassian remained silent.

Marian drew another breath.

"You haven’t answered a single one of my questions."

--

(Cassian POV)

Cassian remained still.

For several seconds, he could only look at her.

Marian stood a short distance away, one hand still near her cloak as though putting that small bit of distance between them had helped her regain her composure.

He understood.

He had probably needed it too.

His arms still remembered the weight of her.

The warmth of her.

For six years, he had imagined what it would feel like to hold her again.

He had imagined it so many times that he had stopped trusting the memory of it.

And yet it had been exactly as familiar as he remembered.

Perhaps more so.

Cassian drew a slow breath.

He needed to steady himself.

He had spent years learning how to control his emotions, how to keep his face unreadable when necessary, how to survive without allowing hope to make him careless.

And Marian had undone all of that in a matter of minutes.

He almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

Of all the things he had prepared himself for tonight, this had not been one of them.

Marian was still watching him.

Her eyes were no longer wet, though he had noticed the brief tears before she wiped them away.

He wondered if she was embarrassed by them.

He hoped she wasn’t.

He had no right to be grateful for her tears.

And yet some small, selfish part of him was.

She had cried because she had believed him dead.

Even if only for a moment, that knowledge settled somewhere deep in his chest.

Cassian lowered his gaze.

He swallowed.

There was so much he wanted to say.

Too much.

He had spent six years imagining this conversation, yet now that the moment had finally arrived, he had no idea where to begin.

And then there was the fact that he had just cried in front of her.

Cassian discreetly wiped the remaining dampness from beneath one eye.

He was not sure whether that made the situation better or considerably more embarrassing.

He cleared his throat.

"We should probably leave the washroom first."

Marian blinked.

For the first time since pulling away from him, she seemed to notice their surroundings as well.

She glanced toward the open doorway.

Then back at him.

Cassian stepped aside, giving her room to pass.

Marian walked out first.

He followed a moment later.

The bedroom suddenly felt much larger than the washroom had.

Cassian closed the door behind them.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

He looked at Marian again.

She was really here.

In his room.

Cassian exhaled slowly.

His expression softened.

He had to be careful.

This was Marian.

Not a memory.

Not a hope.

She was standing in front of him.

And she was married.

That fact had never left his mind.

It simply felt different now that he was close enough to see the ring on her hand.

Whatever he had hoped for when he returned to the Empire, he could not ask anything of her.

He could not demand the place he had once held in her life.

He could only tell her the truth.

And let her decide what to do with it.

Cassian looked back at her.

He had her here.

He had the truth to tell her.

Now he only had to find the courage to begin.

--

Tbc