The Love I Begged For Was Never Real novel Chapter 212

If she hadn't deliriously brought it up in her drunken stupor today, he never would have connected the Xavier heiress to the girl in the alley all those years ago.

The truth rolled painfully in his throat, choking him.

He stared at Nora's face, his lips parting as he wanted to voice the reality of what happened back then.

He wanted to tell her that he hadn't known who was in the alley, that he had merely mistaken her for Giselle.

He had fought off those thugs simply because he thought it was Giselle.

He wanted to tell her that he was never some kind of hero.

The words reached the tip of his tongue but were swallowed back down.

Once spoken, the truth would be far too cruel.

Gideon swallowed the dryness in his throat, flipping his hand over to grasp Nora's fingers, which were still clutching his collar.

He spoke softly, "Nora, you have to look forward. There's no need to keep dwelling on the past; it holds no meaning for who we are now."

"Stop thinking about it and get a good night's sleep. When you wake up tomorrow, your head won't hurt anymore."

Nora seemed to have completely sunken into a long, exhausting dream, offering no reply.

Her hands remained locked in a death grip on the front of his shirt, her knuckles white from the strain.

Gideon tried to pull away, but Nora's brows immediately furrowed as she let out a distressed whimper.

He sighed, abandoning the thought of leaving the master bedroom.

He shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it casually over the back of a nearby chair, then pulled back a corner of the blanket and cautiously lay down beside Nora.

Married for three full years, this spacious master bedroom had been nothing more than a display. The number of times they had shared a bed could be counted on one hand. Most of the time, he worked late in the study or simply slept in the guest room. He was used to keeping his distance, used to this rigidly defined marital relationship.

Yet now, lying flat on the soft mattress, he allowed Nora to grip his shirt cuff.

The bedroom was completely silent, save for the sound of the rain outside and Nora's faint breathing.

Gideon gazed at her sleeping face, turned slightly on his side, and reached out an arm, somewhat stiffly pulling this slender woman into his embrace.

The wind outside showed no sign of weakening, and the heavy rain continued to batter the massive floor-to-ceiling windows.

That night, Gideon did not sleep soundly.

In his dreams, he seemed to have returned to St. Jude's.

His ears rang with the director's vicious curses and the muted thuds of the cane.

He turned his head and saw Giselle cowering in the corner, crying her heart out.

He instinctively wanted to rush over, wanted to shield her from all the harm.

But just as he took a step, he felt someone pull his sleeve in the dark.

In that distant dream where even memories began to blur, aside from Giselle in front of him, it seemed that in some forgotten corner.

There was also a pair of timid, pleading eyes, watching him the whole time.