Mated To My Mate's Worst Enemy (ARIA) novel Chapter 582

Chapter 582

ARIA

He opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

"You're right," he said.

I blinked.

"You're right," he said again. "That's fair. I've been — I've been asking you to be understanding about what I lost while not giving you the same space for what you arrived into." He looked at the window. "That's not equitable."

"No," I said. "It isn't."

"I'm sorry," he said. "For that specifically." He paused. "I had a future I'd planned. Names for children. A life mapped out. The curse came and took it and I've been standing at the edge of it for nine months holding the pieces." He looked at me. "And I know that's not — it's not fair to you. You arrived into the middle of a grief I hadn't finished and I've been asking you to build something with me while I'm still holding the thing that was there before."

I sat with this.

"Ivory talked to you," I said. "Last night. In the clinic."

"Yes," he said.

"What did she say," I said.

He thought about it.

"She told me to say the actual thing," he said. "And she told me she'd grieve the old future too. And she told me she'd make the same choice again." He paused. "And I told her I needed to put it down properly. The old future. Because I've been building the new one without finishing with the old one."

"Have you," I said. "Put it down."

"I'm trying," he said. "Honestly. I'm actively trying."

"Okay," I said.

"Okay," he said.

"That's not a resolution," I said.

"No," he said. "It's not. I think the resolution takes longer than one conversation at seven in the morning after neither of us slept." He held my gaze. "But after the curse is gone. After the war. We actually talk about this — properly, with the time it deserves. No house arrest grievances between us, no managed distance. The actual thing."

"After the curse," I said.

"Truce until then," he said. "Not because the things we said weren't real. Because we have a pack to protect and a war coming and I need to be in the field with you and I need to know we're in it together."

I looked at him.

At the specific quality of him in the morning light, the exhaustion and the honesty and the twelve layers he'd been trying to work through and the genuine effort visible underneath all of it. He was trying. I'd known he was trying for months. The trying was real.

"Truce," I said.

He exhaled.

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