His tone was clipped, as if he were stubbornly proving a point.

Tristan's sudden defensiveness caught her off guard. "What's wrong?"

Regretting his harshness instantly, he looked away, his chin dropping to his chest. "I-I didn't mean it like that."

Assuming he was still spiraling in guilt, Emily took his hand and spoke with deep affection. "It's alright. None of this was your fault. You did everything right, and I'm so incredibly grateful. Seriously, please stop beating yourself up."

The more she reassured him, the stranger his expression became. He stubbornly kept his face turned away, hiding his eyes.

Determined to see what he was hiding, Emily leaned over into his line of sight. "What is it? Talk to me, please?"

He just turned his head further away, a deep scowl settling on his features as he outright refused to look at her.

She offered a few more words of comfort and leaned a little further. Suddenly, the exaggerated movement pulled at the wounds on her arm and abdomen, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain from her lips.

Tristan snapped his head around in a heartbeat, grabbing her shoulders with unfiltered panic. "Are you okay?!"

Emily chuckled softly, sinking back against the pillows. "I'm fine, just stretched a little too far."

The moment she said it, an even deeper wave of frustration washed over his face.

She couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Why are you acting like a pouting child?"

He stared at her, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Are you really okay? Do you need a doctor?"

She squeezed his hand. "I promise I'm fine. No doctors necessary."

Then she added, "I think you're the one who needs checking out right now."

He stiffened. "I'm perfectly fine."

Emily reached up and pinched his cheek, finding it just as satisfying as she remembered. "Look at your face. You're practically throwing a tantrum. What's going on? Why are you upset? Just tell me, don't bottle it up."

He awkwardly batted her hand away. "Nothing's wrong. You're imagining things."

She laughed again. "Tristan, how long have I known you? Do you really think I can't tell when you're sulking?"

He opened his mouth but no sound came out.

"I just got back from a terrifying ordeal, and here you are, brooding in silence, refusing to talk to me," she teased gently.

Then, she threw out a wild guess. "Are you mad at me? Is that why you won't say anything?"

He looked completely helpless at the accusation. "Of course not..."

"Then tell me what it is," she urged softly. "Let me make it better."

He looked away once more, dropping his head in total conversational stonewalling.

Emily offered a resigned smile and pulled his hand into her lap. "That's fine. I'm right here. Tell me whenever you're ready, okay?"

He suddenly whipped his head around and stared intensely into her eyes.

Feeling slightly bewildered under his scrutiny, she touched her cheek. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

Without warning, he lunged forward, wrapping his arms securely around her and burying his face in her neck again.

Completely lost, Emily just stroked his hair soothingly. "It's alright. I'm right here." What she didn't realize was that the sweeter she was, the more tortured he felt. Taking a deep, stabilizing breath, he finally decided to come clean.

He lifted his head, bracing his arms on either side of her, his gaze dead serious.

Emily blinked. "What's with the sudden intensity?"

He pressed his lips together before admitting in a heavy voice, "I wasn't the only one who saved you tonight."

"I know," she replied casually. "Elizabeth and Rose helped too. I'll make sure to thank them properly later."

His brow furrowed deeply. "Not just them. Someone else."

It didn't take a genius to figure out exactly who he meant.

Andrew.

The smile faded from her eyes. "I know," she said quietly. "You mean Andrew."

He immediately met her gaze. "This makes two."

She was momentarily confused. "Two what?"

His expression was incredibly serious, a deep melancholy casting a shadow over

his features. "This is the second time he's saved your life."

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, whether he hated it or not, the undeniable

truth was that Andrew had saved her not once, but twice.

The first time was at the engagement party. If Andrew hadn't intervened, God knows what would have happened to her.

And now this. The police had

informed him that if Andrew hadn't

2.19

voluntarily stepped forward,

Benjamin would have slashed per

other arm open.

It was always Andrew. It always came back to Andrew.

Tristan was trapped in a suffocating mental loop.

He couldn't break free from it, couldn't reason his way out. He was utterly consumed

by raw, corrosive jealousy.

He slumped against her once more, hiding his face in her shoulder so she wouldn't see the ugly envy gnawing at him.

"It's the second time, Emily. How are you going to repay him this time?"

As her boyfriend, he knew he was supposed to be thankful for what the man had done, and a part of him genuinely was.

But as her boyfriend, he was violently jealous that Andrew had been the one to do it.

The bizarre cocktail of gratitude and

jealousy was driving him completely insane a hurricane of conflicting

emotions tearing

through his.

chest

He used to be insecure about their history, but he'd convinced himself it was exactly

that-history. Something that could stay in the past.

But now, their lives were growing

increasingly entangled. The mystery

of the ring Andrew had supposedly.

given her, coupled with two o

life-altering debts... fo FindNovel.net

These facts were a glaring neon sign warning him that fate might not be finished

with Emily and Andrew just yet.