Burn the Marriage, Keep the Crown

Chapter 293

William tilted his head back ever so slightly, as if invisible hands were strumming the strings of his heart, coaxing out a chaotic, tangled melody.

"So... you're saying you don't love me now?"

Serena let out a bitter laugh. Her striking features, half-hidden behind the rim of her glass, seemed even more beautiful in their sadness. Her eyes shimmered with resignation. "Didn't you once say I'd never make the same mistake twice?"

She paused, her lips tugged into a wry smile. "The truth is, I've already fallen into the same trap twice."

"That's why I've sworn off love for the rest of my life."

William's hands tightened on the armrests. "Are you saying you've fallen for someone other than Aaron?"

Serena took a sip of her wine, the sweet flavor lingering on her tongue, warming her from the inside out.

"If only I had," she murmured. "Maybe then, I could finally let go of the pain from my last relationship."

William sighed in relief.

He watched Serena, her cheeks flushed, somewhere between tipsy and sober. His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he held back.

the time to lay his feelings

marriage license... he still wasn't sure how to

over the rim of

skipped a beat, though

later, Serena set her glass down and leaned in, closing the distance between them. A

furrowed her brow, a soft, troubled sound escaping her lips. "Can I

into his throat. "What

wrong of us to pick a fight and beat someone

trembled, her eyes wide with

in relief, easing back

you've got it wrong. We didn't pick a fight on

tone softening. "It's like your father's accident. Sure, he got in that crash coming home for your birthday, to bring you a cake. But you never

eyes shimmered, and she nearly blinked

had really intended? He'd brought her here,

that night because you love him," William went on, his voice as gentle as a spring breeze, brushing away her sorrow "You wanted the most important person in your life there, celebrating your birthday together. That's not something to feel guilty

stared at him,

free, tracing silent paths down her cheeks.

couch, her face