Chapter 13
Cassandra finally told me what her marriage had been like during the last two years.
Not violent.
Not visibly cruel.
More difficult to name.
Tobias had become obsessed with comparison.
Every dinner.
Every holiday.
Every decision.
Would Octavian let us do this?
Would Westbrook approve?
Why does your brother get the final word?
Why do you call him first?
Cassandra slowly began defending me even when she disagreed with me.
That made Tobias angrier.
Then she began hiding calls with me to avoid arguments.
That made him more suspicious.
A loop.
Neither knew how to exit.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She smiled sadly.
“Because you would have hated him.”
“Correct.”
“And I loved him.”
Also correct.
Then:
“I thought protecting my marriage meant keeping you out of it.”
I understood that.
Maybe too well.
“Do you still love him?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
“Will you go back?”
“I don’t know.”
Good.
She had stopped forcing herself into binary answers.
Tobias was doing therapy?
No.
This was our world.
He was doing something more familiar.
Working.
Outside Westbrook.
A private Carrow-owned construction company Daniel refused to join because apparently independence becomes less romantic when it involves invoices and concrete.
Tobias started rebuilding ordinary relationships with former Carrow relatives.
No command.
No rebellion.
Just people.
He wrote Cassandra letters.
She read some.
Returned others unopened.
Her choice.
Then she showed me one.
I won’t ask you to choose me over Octavian again. If you ever choose me, I want it to be because I finally stopped making every relationship a contest.
That was better.
Not enough.
But better.
Then Cassandra added:
“He wants to apologize to Ansel.”
My body hardened.
She noticed.
“I didn’t say yes.”
Good.
“What do you think?”
I almost answered for my son.
Stopped.
“Ansel gets a say.”
Cassandra smiled.
May you like
“You’re learning.”
I hated my family.
