My Deceased Friend’s Daughter Rejects Every Suitor — Then I Discover the Shocking Reason Why
Part 2
She waited, the silence between us stretching tight enough to snap.
I forced myself to take a deliberate step back, putting a safe distance between us.
“Your happiness is not irrelevant to me,” I finally said, keeping my voice painfully formal.
“But is it paramount?” she pressed, refusing to let me retreat.
The directness of her gaze completely unsettled me.
In the soft lantern light, she looked ethereal, yet her challenge was entirely substantial.
“What qualities would you seek in a husband?”
I asked instead of answering.
Megan considered the question seriously, tilting her head.
“Intelligence, certainly, and the courage to question convention when necessary.”
She paused, stepping back into the space I had just vacated.
“And passion, not merely the physical kind, but a capacity for deep feeling.”
“A rare combination,” I agreed, my eyes dropping to her lips.
“Very rare,” she echoed, her gaze never leaving mine.
A dangerous heat built between us, an unspoken current threatening to sweep away my careful restraint.
I gripped the stone railing of the balcony until my knuckles turned white.
“It grows late,” I told her abruptly.
“You should return inside before your absence is remarked upon.”
For a moment, I thought she might argue.
But then she nodded, a flash of disappointment crossing her features.
“Of course, Brian, always proper, always correct.”
She slipped past me and back into the ballroom, leaving only the lingering scent of lavender in her wake.
I remained on the terrace, my hands still gripping the stone as I struggled to master my turbulent emotions.
The oath I had sworn to Dan weighed heavily upon me, a constant reminder of my duty.
Yet with each passing day, that duty became almost impossible to fulfill with honor.
“You are playing a dangerous game,” Brenda’s voice came from the shadows behind me.
I didn’t turn around.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She moved to stand beside me, watching the dancers inside through the glass.
“I have seen how you watch her, and how you hold yourself apart whenever she enters a room.”
“She is my ward.”
“Yes, and therein lies the problem,” my aunt sighed.
“The heart rarely recognizes the barriers we try to place before it.”
“I have no romantic interest in her,” I stated firmly, the lie bitter on my tongue.
Brenda just looked at me with deep skepticism.
“Then you won’t mind when Tyler claims her hand?”
The mere thought sent a dark, possessive bolt straight through my chest.
I knew my expression had betrayed me completely.
“I thought as much,” Brenda said softly.
“You have spent seven years in self-imposed exile from life.”
“Perhaps it is time to consider what Dan truly wanted for both his daughter and his friend.”
“He wanted me to protect her.”
“Yes, but not at the expense of her happiness, or yours.”
I shook my head, staring out into the dark garden.
“It is impossible.”
“Because of your promise, or because you are afraid?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, turning to head back inside.
“Think on it, Brian, but do not wait too long.”
She left me alone with my thoughts and the distant strains of a waltz.
Above, the stars glittered coldly, entirely indifferent to the turmoil within my breast.
Megan would dance with other men tonight, smile at their compliments, and perhaps even encourage their suits.
It was the natural order of things, exactly what I had promised Dan I would facilitate.
So why did the thought fill me with such unbearable anguish?
What would you do if the only person you wanted was the one you promised never to touch?
