My Bratty Wife
Chapter 145 - Hundred And Forty Five

Chapter 145: Chapter Hundred And Forty Five

"Cassandra?" Ryan’s voice, rough with worry, broke the silence of the night. Suzy, startled, looked up from where she was perched on the edge of the pond, her heart pounding. He looked disheveled, like he’d been running. Guess she wasn’t the only one looking out of place.

She lowered the shoe she intended to toss, the impact on the floor jarring. Ryan was upon her in an instant, engulfing her in a tight hug. Relief and fear battled in his eyes, his grip almost painfully tight. Suzy could barely breathe, her own tears mingling with his.

He pulled back, gently cupping her face, his thumbs wiping away the tears. "Have you been crying?" he asked, his voice soft, his kiss warm, his lips lingering on her forehead.

Suzy remained silent, the weight of his touch heavy on her. He pulled her back into another hug, this time gentler, a murmur of apology escaping his lips. " I’m sorry."

"Did you hurt me... push me away... because of guilt?" Suzy finally asked, her voice trembling.

Ryan pulled back, his eyes searching hers. He saw the disappointment mirrored in their depths, a wave of despair washing over him.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" she pressed, her voice rising. "You were that seven-year-old boy... the one who saw my mother die, weren’t you?"

Ryan was speechless, the words caught in his throat.

"Was that why you had those nightmares?" she continued, her voice laced with anger. "Was the guilt... was it too much to bear that you were repeatedly hurting me, pushing me away?"

He remained silent, his head bowed, the silence deafening.

Suzy felt a surge of rage, her fists connecting with his chest. "Answer me! You bastard!" she screamed. "You knew how much I wanted to know what happened to my mother! You watched me run in circles, chasing shadows! I hate you! I hate you so..."

He quickly covered her mouth with his hand, his eyes wide with fear. "Please," he begged, his voice hoarse. "Any punishment... anything... but please don’t hate me."

Suzy wrenched her face away, her eyes blazing. "I should hate you?" she asked, her voice shaking with a mixture of anger and hurt.

"I Love You," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "I’m sorry ... please ... don’t hate me."

She continued hitting his chest with her fists, each blow fueled with frustration and hurt. "I shouldn’t hate you! Is that it? I have already done that. I hate you with every fiber of my being."

Ryan winced, but didn’t try to stop her. He knew he deserved it.

Finally, he took her hands in his, his grip firm but gentle. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice hoarse, "I’m really sorry."

Suzy pulled her hands away, her eyes blazing. "Why did you make me love you when you were going to push me away?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous.

"When I realized I loved you," Ryan confessed, his voice trembling, "I couldn’t bring myself to tell you that my father took your mother’s life. I watched her cry for help, I heard her screams, and all I could do was cry and wail, a helpless child. I’m so sorry, Cassandra. I knew you were searching for answers, you were desperate to know what happened, but I couldn’t give you the truth. I was selfish. I was only thinking about how it would affect our relationship, how it would change everything. I was terrified of losing you."

Suzy sat down heavily on a moss-covered stump near the edge of the pond, her gaze fixed on the rippling water. Ryan knelt in front of her, his eyes filled with a desperate plea.

"I was the one who sent Baron Carew away," he admitted, his voice thick with shame. "I paid him to leave early. I didn’t want you to know the truth, not from him, not from anyone. I wanted to keep you safe, to protect you from the pain, even if it meant keeping you in the dark."

Suzy looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and hurt. "You kept the truth from me," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You let me live with the uncertainty, the constant gnawing doubt, for all days we’ve spent together."

"I know," Ryan said, his voice filled with remorse. "And I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to cause you so much pain. I was a coward, a selfish coward."

Suzy looked away, the weight of his confession pressing down on her. It was worse than she could have ever imagined. Not only he betrayed her, but he had also actively kept her from the truth, from the closure she so desperately craved.

"Why?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Why did you do it? Why couldn’t you just tell me the truth?"

Ryan reached out to touch her hand, but she flinched away. "I was afraid," he repeated, his voice hoarse. "Afraid of losing you. Afraid that the truth would destroy us."

"But it already has," Suzy countered, her voice rising. "Your silence, your betrayal, they’ve destroyed us. They’ve created a chasm between us that I don’t know if we can ever bridge."

Ryan looked at her, his heart aching. "I know," he said, his voice filled with despair. "I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to earn it back."

Suzy looked at him, her eyes searching his. Could she ever forgive him? Could she ever truly trust him again? The pain was still raw, the betrayal still stung, but beneath the anger, she still loves him so much that it’s hurting her.

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Eleanor chuckled, a triumphant glint in her eyes. "Owen, get me a glass and a bottle of wine. I need to celebrate."

The young lad, eager to please, scurried off to fetch the requested items. Eleanor, meanwhile, lit her hookah, the fragrant smoke curling around her face. She inhaled deeply, savoring the smooth, cool sensation. A satisfied smile played on her lips as she exhaled slowly, a plume of smoke swirling into the air.

"Now Ryan will know who truly loves him," she murmured to herself. "He thought I was bluffing when I told him I’d do anything to get him back to me. He underestimated me, the fool."

A triumphant laugh escaped her lips. "But I won. Yes Ryan. I won."

She chuckled again, a low, melodic sound. "I won. I won against that wretched girl. She thought she could steal him from me? How naive."

A mischievous glint entered her eyes. "I’ll have to go to Carleton tomorrow, of course. Offer him my shoulder to lean on, a comforting ear to listen to his woes. He’s going to need it after what he’s been through. Poor, dear Ryan, so lost and confused."

A soft knock interrupted her musings. "It’s me, Owen," a voice called from outside.

"Come in," Eleanor replied, her voice smooth as silk. "Drop them and leave."

The door creaked open, and Owen entered, carrying a crystal glass and a bottle of expensive Bordeaux. He placed them on the small table beside Eleanor’s chaise longue and silently withdrew, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the fragrant smoke.

Eleanor picked up the glass, swirling the ruby-red wine within. It was time to celebrate. Time to savor her victory. Ryan would be back in her arms soon enough. She had no doubt about it. He always did return to her, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

She took a long sip of the wine, the taste rich and intoxicating. The future stretched out before her, promising a life of luxury and indulgence, with Ryan by her side, of course.

She took another long draw from the hookah, the smoke curling around her face like a sinister veil.

"This is just the beginning, Ryan," she whispered, her voice a low, seductive purr. "You’ll be back in my arms soon enough."

She leaned back against the cushions, her eyes gleaming with a cold, calculating ambition.

A slow, predatory smile touched her lips. The game had just begun.