Chapter 199: Unwinding With The Viscount.
Night.
Downside Tavern, Critic Arley.
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He couldn’t breathe, he needed air and the whole of his mansion provided none, guilt, anxiety, and underlying anger ruled his blood and he couldn’t lie next to Lydia like he was fine, so he took a hat and headed downstairs.
The grand double doors of the mansion swung open with a creak, revealing his tall figure as he strode out into the chilly night. The cold air bit at his skin, but Theodore barely noticed, his mind a tumultuous sea of emotions. His long golden locks, that was usually neatly tied back, now tumbled freely over his shoulders, it caught the pale moonlight sharpening all his edges. He pulled his hat low over his brow, partly to shield himself from the cold and partly to hide his eyes, that were suddenly burning with anger and stinging with unshed tears.
He couldn’t believe moments ago, their mansion had echoed with the sound of a fierce argument because of the utter silence permeating the air now.
Lydia’s eyes had been filled with so much hurt, and her accusation about him of not trusting her had been partially true but the reasoning she thought he had behind keeping things from her was totally different. The accusation struck deep, leaving him feeling afraid, angry, and guilty all at once. He loved her dearly, yet the words they had exchanged hung heavily in the air, poisoning the space they once filled with laughter and love.
He didn’t think her as a weaker or lesser human, he didn’t think she was undeserving of every burden he carries, but he remembers because they’re his burden, if nature wanted them to share the burden she would have been given visions of their past life too and he wouldn’t be as miserable but this fight was his for both of them and her father was a sore topic even more than his mother is.
Seeking solace, he made his way to the stables. The familiar scent of hay and horses was a small comfort in the turmoil of his thoughts. He saddled a horse, a magnificent chestnut steed, with practiced ease. As he mounted, he felt a pang of guilt, running away was not the answer, but he needed to clear his head, to escape the oppressive weight of the confrontation.
He knew she hadn’t been sleeping when he left but he didn’t know how to talk to her. She was a strong woman and he wished she’d never think otherwise but his actions obviously make her feel weaker and he hated that.
He rode through the gates of the mansion, the hooves of his horse striking a rhythmic beat against the cobblestones. As he rode on ahead, Critic Arley laid quiet under the blanket of night, the usual bustle of the day replaced by an eerie silence. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the turmoil within him.