GUILT WAS A CHAIN STRONGER THAN ANY LOCK

Chapter 2

Elowen

My phone buzzed and I glanced down at the calendar reminder flashing across the screen: Four years since you married Adrian. Four years since you promised forever.

Forever had seemed romantic once, but forever had turned into a prison sentence and I was serving time for crimes I didn't commit while Adrian wielded guilt like a weapon and blamed me for the bars between us.

I deleted the reminder and pulled up my email, already composing messages to the travel agent and the villa rental company because even though he was punishing me, even though he made every day feel like walking through broken glass, I still couldn't stop trying to take care of him, still couldn't stop hoping that maybe if I was good enough, perfect enough, I might catch a glimpse of the man he used to be.

The man who'd proposed on a rooftop in Paris with tears in his eyes as he told me I was his entire world, and I'd believed him because he'd been everything I'd dreamed of, successful and passionate and so utterly devoted, and I hadn't recognized the seeds of possession and control taking root beneath the romantic gestures.

My office was my sanctuary, the one room Adrian rarely entered because the stairs were impossible for his wheelchair, and I sank into the velvet chair by the window and let myself feel the weight of everything I'd been carrying, just for a moment, just long enough to remember I was still in here somewhere beneath the guilt and the grief.

I pulled up the villa listing again and scrolled through the photographs, noting the four bedrooms and the private pool and the outdoor dining terrace, and I wondered which rooms Matteo and Kian would choose, whether they'd stake out opposite ends to maintain maximum distance.

Matteo with his warm brown eyes and Italian accent that turned every word into music, all effortless charm and easy smiles.

I'd liked him from the moment Adrian introduced us five years ago, had felt immediately comfortable even though he was gorgeous enough to make most women stammer.

But he'd always treated me with careful courtesy like I was something fragile, and after the accident he'd been one of the few people who'd checked on me instead of just Adrian, who'd asked how I was holding up instead of assuming I was fine.

And Kian with his sharp jaw and sharper suits and those grey eyes that seemed to see straight through whatever mask I was wearing.

All controlled intensity that reminded me of a predator deciding whether you were prey, he made me nervous in ways I couldn't explain, had always made me feel exposed like he knew secrets about me that I didn't know about myself, but he'd been loyal to Adrian through everything and there was something almost protective in the way he watched me sometimes when he thought no one was looking.

They hated each other though, all brittle politeness and cutting remarks whenever they were forced together, and Adrian had tried for years to figure out what caused the rift but neither would explain.

And now he wanted all of us trapped together for two weeks.

My phone buzzed again, a text from Caroline: Lunch tomorrow? Miss your face.

I stared at the message, trying to remember the last time I'd seen my friends, the last time I'd left the house for something other than Adrian's needs or charity events where I smiled and played devoted wife while everyone whispered about how tragic it all was.

Me: Can't tomorrow, preparing for Italy, maybe when I get back?

Caroline: Italy?! Elo that's amazing! You deserve a vacation!

I didn't correct her, didn't explain that vacation implied escape when this trip would be none of those things, I just sent back a heart emoji and tried to ignore the crushing loneliness pressing against my ribs.

The sun was setting outside, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, and I rolled up my sleeve to check my wrist, finding the familiar pattern of fingerprints blooming purple against my pale skin before pulling the sleeve back down quickly because looking at the evidence made it real in ways I couldn't afford.

Two weeks, I told myself, moving to my desk where travel itineraries waited, two weeks and maybe something would change or maybe nothing would but at least I'd have tried.

At least I could say I'd done everything possible to save a marriage that was already dead while everyone pretended not to smell the rot.

I opened my laptop and started making lists because lists made me feel like I had control, and I ignored the voice whispering that whatever Adrian had planned in Italy was going to break me in ways I wouldn't recover from, that I should run now while I still had the strength.

But I didn't run because I never ran, because guilt was a chain stronger than any lock, because I'd made vows and walking away felt like admitting defeat.

So instead I planned, organized and prepared to spend two weeks in paradise with three men who despised each other and a husband who despised me, and I told myself it would be fine because making things fine was what I did, was who I'd become, was the only role I had left even when it felt like dying slowly and calling it devotion.

.......

The private car arrived at six in the morning, sleek and black and silent, and I watched from the front window as the driver stepped out to load our luggage, my coffee growing cold in my hands because my stomach was too knotted to drink it.

"Is everything ready?" Adrian's voice came from behind me, sharp and expectant.

"Everything's ready," I confirmed, setting down my untouched coffee. "The villa has the accessibility equipment waiting, I've confirmed the car service in Naples, and I have all your medications organized by day."

He nodded once, his gaze sweeping over me. "Good, let's not keep the driver waiting, and we're meeting Matteo and Kian at the airport so don't dawdle."

I grabbed my purse and followed him out, and the morning air was crisp with autumn chill that made me pull my cardigan tighter even though I knew Italy would be warm.

Matteo was there when we arrived, sprawled in one of the leather chairs with an espresso, and he looked up as we entered, his face breaking into that easy smile. "Adrian, fratello, right on time as always."

He stood in one fluid motion, all lean grace in dark jeans and a cream linen shirt, and he crossed to us with his hand extended toward Adrian first before his warm brown eyes found mine. "Elowen, bella, you look tired, long night?"

"Something like that," I said softly, accepting the kiss he pressed to both my cheeks. Something trying to flutter in my tummy but I shove it down, reminding myself why I'm here.

I was married to their best friend, I couldn't afford to feel anything other than respect.

"Where's Kian?" Adrian asked.

"I'm here." The voice came from behind us, deep and controlled, and I turned to see Kian striding through the entrance with his phone pressed to his ear.

He was all sharp lines in a charcoal suit despite the early flight, and when his grey eyes swept over our group they lingered on me for just a fraction too long before moving to Adrian. "Sorry, client crisis, but it's handled."

He ended the call and slipped his phone into his pocket, then moved forward to shake Adrian's hand with the same careful courtesy he always showed, and I noticed the way Matteo's posture shifted when Kian entered the space, becoming somehow more alert and more guarded, and the way Kian's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly when he glanced at Matteo, and I wondered again what had happened between them to create this chasm neither would explain.

"Good, we're all here," Adrian said, satisfaction in his voice that made my skin prickle with warning. "Two weeks in paradise with my three favorite people, I couldn't ask for a better birthday gift."

Kian's eyes found mine again and this time there was something in them I couldn't read, something that looked almost like concern or maybe pity, and I had to look away because the weight of his attention made my pulse flutter in ways that felt dangerous. "It's generous of you to arrange all this, Elowen, I know managing Adrian's needs and coordinating travel isn't easy."

"She lives to serve," Adrian said before I could respond, his tone light but with edges sharp enough to draw blood. "Isn't that right, darling, taking care of me is your whole purpose now."