She shook her head, tears spilling over. When she spoke, her voice was laced with self-deprecating humor, her only defense against this awful, awkward moment. “Please, don’t make me say it again.”
“I—” He stopped, uncertain of his words.
“You don’t have to say anything. In fact, I’d prefer you not say anything. But there it is. I can’t marry you. Because it would kill me to spend the rest of my days with you when you are only marrying me out of some newfound—and misplaced—sense of honor and duty.”
He watched her for long moments, followed the tears as they traveled, unhindered, down her cheeks. “I—” He repeated, for the first time in his life entirely without words.
She couldn’t bear to look at him. “Do you remember the night in your bedchamber?” she whispered. “When we negotiated the terms of our transaction?”
The night everything changed. “Of course I do.”
“Do you remember you promised me a favor? Of my choosing? In the future?”
A feeling of cold dread settled in the pit of his stomach. All of a sudden, he knew what she was going to say. “Callie, don’t do this.”
“I’m asking you to honor that promise. Right now. Please, just go away.”
The pain in her voice was heartbreaking, and Ralston itched to touch her, to comfort her. Instead, he raked his hands through his hair, cursing violently. “Callie—” He stopped, not knowing what to say but determined to say something, anything, that would convince her that she should marry him.
She held up a single hand, and Ralston had a fleeting moment of surprise at its steadiness. “Please, Gabriel. If you care for me at all,” she repeated, “please, just go away. Go away and leave me alone.”
And, because it was the one request she’d made that he could honor, he did.
Callie sat for a long while in the quiet room, allowing the darkness to surround her. The tears that came were fleeting, soon replaced by a bone-deep sadness that came with the sense of finality that the interaction with Ralston had brought.
For, in that moment, she knew with utter certainty that she would be alone forever. Refusing Ralston’s suit so summarily had ruined her for all others. For, if she could not have him, she would never want anyone else.
Perhaps she had made a mistake. Perhaps she could have loved him enough for both of them. But could she survive a lifetime of knowing that he never really wanted her? That he had proposed simply because it was the thing to do? That, left to his own devices, he would have found someone infinitely more worldly? Infinitely more beautiful? Infinitely…more?
No. She couldn’t bear it. Refusing him had been her only option.
She wiped a stray tear from her cheek and sniffled quietly, knowing she should return to the ball but unable to make the effort.
“Callie?”
The whisper, barely a sound, came from the doorway and Callie snapped her head around to face Juliana, who was peering through the dim light to confirm that the woman in the darkness was, indeed, her friend.
Dashing another tear from her cheek, Callie sat up in her chair, facing the younger girl. “Juliana, you should not be here, alone!”
At the words, Juliana closed the door firmly behind her and crossed to Callie, sitting on a nearby ottoman. “I am quite tired of being told what I should and should not do. You are here, are you not? I am not so alone now!”
Callie smiled a watery smile at the girl’s defense. “That much is true.”
“And it looks as though you could use a companion, amica. As could I.”
Callie blinked, focusing on Juliana’s face, registering her blue eyes, rounded and…hurt? Callie pushed her own sadness aside, and said, “What has happened?”
Juliana waved one hand with what Callie knew was feigned dismissiveness. “I wandered away from the celebration and became lost.”
Callie’s look softened. “Juliana, you cannot allow them to upset you.”
Juliana’s lips twisted wryly. “I am not upset. Indeed, I find myself eager to show them what I am capable of.”
Callie smiled at the younger girl, “Yes! That is how you must face them. Proud, and strong, and wonderfully you. They shall not be able to resist you. I guarantee it!”
Juliana’s face shadowed for a moment—so fleeting that Callie almost missed it. “Some shall resist me, it seems.”
Callie shook her head, placing a warm, reassuring hand on the other girl’s knee. “I vow they shan’t be able to for long.”