Aveline held back her sobs, though it took everything in her not to break.
Theron, for his part, held back the urge to go to her.
He did not have the courage to face her now, not when he knew he was the one hurting her. He should never have acted on impulse. He had treated her as though she belonged to him, as though he had the right to reach for her, to kiss her, to make her hope for something he had no right to promise.
And now she was the one bleeding inside from it.
There was nothing he could do except stand there and watch.
Aveline wiped at her eyes. Maybe she had brought this upon herself when she had asked to become his mistress. Maybe she had been foolish to let herself hope when he had never once told her he would marry her. He had never even pretended to offer her that future.
And in the end, she was the one who had been hurt.
