Bound to my Enemy-Chapter 66.

"He doesn’t like being challenged," Aaron says. "Especially in front of other men."

I look down at my hands only to see my fingers are still shaking

He stands carefully and rolls his sleeve back down.

"You don’t owe me an apology," he adds. "You didn’t pull the trigger."

I look up at him. "But I caused it."

He doesn’t answer that.

Instead, he reaches for his jacket. "You should go before he comes looking."

"I will," I say. "I just needed you to hear it from me."

He nods once. "I heard you."

I turn to leave, then stop at the door.

"Aaron?"

"Yes."

"I’m glad it was your arm," I say quietly. "Not your head."

Despite himself he lets out a full bellied laugh. "Me too ma’am, me too"

————————————————————

I don’t see Zane all day when I wake up the next day.

Not at breakfast, not in the hallways. I keep my head down and stay in the kitchen with Margaret because it’s easier there. The work is simple and and doesn’t shoot freakng guns at people.

Margaret doesn’t push me, she hands me vegetables to wash, herbs to strip, bowls to carry from one counter to another. When my head swims, I lean my hip against the counter and pretend I’m just tired. She notices anyway. She’ll pause mid-task and slide a stool under me without saying a word.

"You’re doing just fine, sweetie." she tells me at some point, not looking at me. "Just don’t rush."

"I’m not," I say, even though I am.

My arms feel heavier than they should. By the time we’re done prepping for dinner, my shoulders ache like I’ve been lifting something far bigger than onions and pots, I’m getting weaker as the days go by. When Margaret finally wipes her hands on her apron and turns to me, she frowns.

"That’s enough for today."

"I’m okay," I say automatically.

She doesn’t argue with me, She just steps closer and puts an arm around my back,and before I can protest she’s guiding me out of the kitchen.

I don’t realize how unsteady I am until my feet drag.

Aaron appears like he’s been hovering nearby the whole time. His arm is still wrapped, the fabric stained faintly pink near the elbow. He looks at Margaret, then at me.

"I’ve got her," he says.

"No, you don’t," Margaret replies. "You’re injured yourself. "

"I can walk,I’m totally fine." I mutter, embarrassed.

Margaret ignores me and scoops me closer, my arm slung over her shoulder. She’s stronger than she looks apparently. Aaron trails behind us anyway, hovering, opening doors, pulling them shut again. Every time I wobble, he reaches out like he’s ready to catch me even though Margaret’s holding me just fine.

We pass through a quieter wing of the house, away from the polished floors and wide windows, the staff quarters are warmer and more lived in. Margaret settles me on a narrow couch and straightens my collar like I’m twelve or something.

"You sit and rest." she says. "I need to run out for groceries."

"You don’t have to....."

"I do," she cuts in, gentle but firm. Then she looks at Aaron. "Keep an eye on her."

He nods immediately. "Of course."

Margaret leaves me and shortly afterwards a small group of girls who look roughly about my age come into the room. They’re sprawled across chairs and the floor, laughing about something before entering the room. When one of them looks up at me she grins widely

"Ouuuuuuuuu you are the wife," she says, with a mischievous grin on her face.

I wince. "Elaine."

"Cool. I’m Tessa and that’s Lila and that one over there pretending not to stare is June."

June flips her off. "Og fuck you i wasn’t staring."

They make room for me without fuss,someone hands me a bottle water, another hands me a throw blanket because apparently I look cold, slowly the knot in my chest loosens a little .

Somewhere in between the lines, the girls find music and start dancing to it. Barefoot and uncoordinated laughing when they bump into each other. Aaron watches from the doorway, arms crossed, smiling despite himself. His injury doesn’t stop him from clapping along when we finish.

Time slips by so fast without me noticing. The light outside fades and someone drags chairs onto the patio. The air is cooler here, We sit in a loose circle, legs tucked under us and our shoulders touching.

Lila pulls something from her pocket and raises an eyebrow. "Anyone mind?" It’s a blunt.

I hesitate. I’ve never smoked, not once in my life. My head still feels light and I know I shouldn’t, but curiosity wins.

"I’ll try," I say.

They pass it to me with instructions that make them laugh when I cough. It burns and I hate it at first but then my limbs start to loosenNd the ache dulls. Music plays from someone’s phone and suddenly we’re dancing again, slower now, laughing at nothing.

For a while, I forget where I am.

When it’s fully dark, I sit on the steps and watch the others sway under the string lights. Aaron sits beside me, quiet.

"You good?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say, and this time it’s mostly true.

For the first time since the wedding, the house doesn’t feel like it’s swallowing me whole.

Zane’s POV.

I get home later than I planned. The lights are off in most parts of the house, when I get in I drop my keys on the console and stand there longer than I need to.

She should be upstairs.

I didn’t see her all day and that was intentional. I had meetings back to back and I didn’t want another argument sitting in my chest while I dealt with investors.

I tell myself it doesn’t matter. We’re not sharing a bed and this marriage isn’t real anyways and She’s free to sulk wherever she wants as long as she follows the rules I gave her.

Still, my feet take me upstairs and to her side of the wing instead of to my room.