Chapter Ten: The truth he refused to see

Lucas Harrington had always believed distance was safety.

If he kept his emotions locked away, if he treated everything—including marriage—as a transaction, then nothing could reach him. Nothing could hurt him. That belief had shaped every decision he’d made, every wall he’d built.

Until Amara stopped trying.

He noticed it that morning.

She didn’t ask where he was going. Didn’t question the call he ended abruptly. Didn’t look at him with quiet expectation or restrained frustration. She simply moved around the apartment with calm efficiency, her expression composed, unreadable.

Too composed.

Lucas watched her from across the room, an unfamiliar unease settling in his chest. He preferred her anger. Her questions. Even her disappointment. Silence felt like something slipping through his fingers.

“You’re quiet,” he said finally.

Amara paused briefly, then continued pouring tea. “I’m fine.”

The words were polite. Controlled. Empty.

Lucas frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

She met his gaze, her eyes steady but distant. “It’s the only one I have.”

Something about that unsettled him.

The day passed with an uncomfortable calm. No arguments. No tension sharp enough to react to. Just space. Space Lucas hadn’t realized he depended on filling with control.

That evening, he returned earlier than planned. He expected to find Amara reading in the sitting room or pacing the balcony the way she did when her thoughts were restless.

Instead, her suitcase stood open on the bed.

His steps slowed.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Amara didn’t look up as she folded a dress with careful precision. “Packing.”

His jaw tightened. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“I am,” she replied quietly.

The room seemed to shrink.

“You can’t just leave,” Lucas said.

She finally turned to him. “I’m not disappearing. I’m choosing space.”

“For what?” he demanded.

“So I don’t forget who I was before I became someone you tolerate,” she said.

The words hit harder than accusation.

“You’re my wife,” Lucas said sharply. “You don’t get to make decisions like this alone.”

She laughed softly, without humor. “You’ve made every decision alone since the day we married.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Amara asked. “You decided when I spoke. When I stayed quiet. When I mattered.”

Lucas took a step toward her. “Everything I’ve done was to protect you.”

“No,” she said gently. “It was to protect yourself.”

The truth of it lodged painfully deep.

“I never asked for affection,” Amara continued. “I asked for honesty. For respect. You gave me rules instead.”

Lucas clenched his fists. “You knew what this marriage was.”

“I knew it was a contract,” she said. “I didn’t know it would cost me my voice.”

Her words stripped away every excuse he’d built.

“Amara—” he began.

She shook her head. “I’m not angry anymore. That’s the problem.”

Indifference.

The very shield he had relied on.

Lucas felt it then—real fear.

“Don’t do this,” he said quietly. “Don’t shut me out.”

Her eyes softened, but her resolve didn’t waver. “I learned from you.”

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating.

Lucas spoke again, slower now. “If you leave… things won’t go back to the way they were.”

“I hope not,” she replied.

She zipped the suitcase shut.

That sound echoed louder than any argument they’d ever had.

Amara walked past him, stopping only once at the door. “I didn’t want to be loved out of obligation. And I won’t stay out of fear.”

The door closed behind her.

Lucas stood alone, the apartment suddenly hollow.

For the first time, indifference didn’t feel like protection.

It felt like loss.

And the terrifying part?

He wasn’t sure he knew how to fix what he had broken.