Rowan reached down, his fingers lightly brushing the worn mattress of the hotel bed.
He shook his head, a soft frown tugging at the corner of his lips.
“This bed isn’t comfortable at all.
How have you been sleeping on this for an entire week?” He turned toward her, tilting his head slightly, his gaze softening into the gentlest expression she had ever seen on him.
“Doesn’t it hurt your back, my love?” The words hung in the air, landing with the weight of a physical blow.
Esme felt her heart miss a beat entirely before slamming against her ribs with a violent, deafening thud.
Her eyes widened, her lips parting slightly, but no sound escaped her throat.
The sheer shock locked her lungs in place.
Rowan stood up smoothly, adjusting his coat before taking a slow step toward her.
“Let’s go on a date.” A warm, genuine smile lit up his face as he closed the distance between them.
Esme remained frozen, her feet feeling as though they had taken root in the carpet.
As he stopped right in front of her, the rich, familiar scent of his expensive cologne enveloped her, thick enough to make her dizzy.
Finally, her brain restarted.
She snapped out of her trance, shaking her head vigorously as she took an unsteady step backward.
“What!
What on earth is going on?” She pressed a hand to her forehead, utterly bewildered, her eyes darting across his face as he watched her with a calm, amused smirk.
“What is all this?
‘My love’?
What date?” “It’s nighttime, and it’s the perfect time to go for a proper dinner date, my love,” Rowan replied smoothly, the smirk lingering on his lips.
Esme raised a trembling finger, pointing it squarely at his chest.
“No.
No, absolutely not.
Don’t call me that!
Stop all this over-familiarity.
I am not your love.
We are not a normal couple.
I don’t love you!” Rowan didn’t flinch.
Instead, he took another quiet step forward.
“No, stay right there!
Do not come any closer to me!” Esme stretched her arm out, holding her hand up like a barricade.
“Why don’t you ever listen to me?” Ignoring her outstretched hand, Rowan continued his slow advance.
Esme backed away until the cool, hard surface of the wall hit her spine.
Trapped, she froze as Rowan stopped mere inches away, towering over her.
He looked down into her eyes, his expression unreadable for a brief second before softening once more.
“You don’t love me,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady.
“But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” Esme’s voice cracked, raw with rising panic and confusion.
“You can’t force someone to accept your love, Rowan.” “I’m not forcing you to accept anything, Esme,” he murmured softly, tilting his head.
“Just because you don’t love me doesn’t mean I won’t treat you right.” Esme stared up at him, completely lost.
The tenderness in his eyes reached all the way to his smile, looking so genuine that it terrified her.
“You’re crazy,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Crazy in love with you,” he corrected without a second of hesitation.
Her heart was hammering so violently against her chest that she was certain he could hear it.
“What is wrong with me?
What is happening?” She swallowed hard, trying to anchor herself back to reality.
“You married me because my father was buried in debt to you!
Not because you love me.” Rowan’s smirk returned, light and teasing.
“Maybe I fell in love with you already.” “What is going on?!” Esme screamed internally, her mind spiraling into complete chaos.
Rowan glanced down at her damp hair, then back up to her eyes.
“You’ve showered.” “So?” she snapped defensively.
“So you’re already clean and ready to go on a date with me.” Esme scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.
“No.
I won’t.” Instead of arguing, Rowan simply moved back a few inches.
“One moment,” he said calmly, turning on his heel and walking toward the door.
Esme watched him in total bewilderment as he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.
She stood pinned against the wall, staring at the empty doorway.
“Where is he going?” she muttered to herself, pressing a palm to her hot forehead.
“You’ve officially gone crazy, Esme.
This whole situation is insane.” A moment later, the door creaked open again.
Rowan walked back in, holding his right arm firmly behind his back.
He closed the door gently behind him, his eyes locked on hers.
Esme’s eyes narrowed as she watched his posture.
“What is that behind his back?” A sudden surge of panic shot through her veins, turning her blood cold.
“Is that a gun?
Is he going to shoot me because I said no?” Her shoulders tense up, rising toward her ears as every muscle in her body locked into a brace.
Rowan walked over until he was standing directly in front of her again.
Terrified of what was coming, Esme squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head slightly away, waiting for the worst.
Instead of a weapon, Rowan smoothly swung his arm forward.
With a soft rustle of paper, he dropped down onto one knee.
When no shot came, Esme slowly cracked one eye open, then turned her head back.
Her gaze dropped down, and her breath caught in her throat.
Her eyes widened in absolute shock.
Holding a bouquet of fresh, dark red roses, Rowan looked up at her from the floor.
“You asked for space, and I gave it to you,” he said softly, his voice dropping an octave as he looked up into her eyes.
“Please…
do not punish me any longer.” Esme stared down at him, completely speechless, her mind refusing to process the image in front of her.
“What…
what are you doing?” Rowan offered a faint, vulnerable smile.
“Do you have any idea how much it hurt when I couldn’t feel your presence for a week?
It felt like a whole decade passed by.” “What…
what is this, Rowan?” she stuttered, her defensive composure crumbling into dust.
Rowan shifted slightly, adjusting his stance on one knee while keeping the flowers extended toward her.
“I know you hate me.
I know how we started.
But give me this chance to take care of you…
as my wife.” Esme felt an unfamiliar, frightening warmth spread through her chest.
Her heart, which had been fighting so hard to maintain its anger, began to melt under the sheer weight of his gaze.
She stood frozen, staring down at the man on his knee, as a desperate war broke out between her rational mind telling her to run, and her hammering heart begging her to say yes.
Trust me.
I love you all!