Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Clara stood rooted to the spot for a few seconds before she finally made herself follow him.

She wasn't imagining it-Dylan was in a seriously bad mood tonight.

She trailed him upstairs to the second floor, watching as he slipped into his study and sat right in the middle of the room. He didn't look like he was about to get any work done; if anything, he looked lost in his own head.

Clara hovered at the doorway, debating with herself, then finally couldn't resist anymore.

"Did your family come down on you again?"

The marks from last time still hadn't faded. If they hurt him again, would his back ever heal?

Dylan glanced at her silhouette in the doorway, his lips quirking up just a little.

"Are you worried about me?"

Sometimes Clara wondered if she'd been fitted with a Dylan mood detector or something. How else could she always tell when he was upset?

She didn't answer, just stood there for a few more minutes before slowly walking over and bracing her hands on his desk.

"I just don't get it. If this is all so hard for you, why not just divorce me? Wouldn't that make both our lives easier?"

He looked up right away, eyes sharp. "Easier for who?"

Clara frowned. Was she not making sense?

"For me. For you. Mrs. Ferguson said it herself—marrying me would just make your life miserable."

His face stayed unreadable, but suddenly he reached out and gently gripped her chin, tipping her head side to side.

"Maybe it would be better for you, Clara. But not for me."

Dylan had always called her "Clara"-her first name,

for any hint of what they might have been

along. She'd even slapped him once,

was Dylan to her,

thought, she didn't even

His voice gentled. "Go get

hands were still planted on the desk, her mind blank for a few long seconds before she finally shuffled out, moving like a

was halfway down the hall when she heard him say, "Next time you

feeling like

re

ridiculous rumor

her.

moment, she opened

respond, but nothing came

a real smile finally breaking through. His bad mood just

did that-without even trying, she

didn't go back to her own room right away. Instead,

down at the house

staff were still busy, moving around with quiet purpose. Somehow, this place had started to feel warm, even comforting. Waiting up for

more than

thought scared her. She needed to find a way out,

a deep breath and started down

while, eventually making

car.

She couldn't drive

always left so early

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