The Broken Vows: Zane and Celeste’s Story (The Windsors)

Zane wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer in his sleep, and I sigh happily as I bury my face against his chest, my fingers trailing over his tattoo. It’s me. The more I look at it, the more obvious it becomes. What was he thinking when he tattooed that over his heart?

I’m not even sure what I am in his eyes — it looks like he depicted me as a goddess, but the black wings make me look like a fallen angel. This tattoo has to be at least a few years old, and it raises more questions that I don’t dare ask.

Being around him again, when I’m not drowning in grief, is more confusing than ever. I’m second-guessing myself every time he looks at me like he misses me, every time he tries to put distance between us despite the longing in his eyes. As the weeks pass, his anger and hatred seem to have faded, leaving only deep-rooted pain in his gaze.

I don’t understand what happened between us, and each time we discussed it, my mind was too grief-stricken to truly listen. No matter how many times we spoke about it, he’d deny all of Lily’s accusations, even though her diary proved otherwise. To this day, he refuses to admit what Lily told me on The King’s Bridge, and I’m no longer as steadfast in my conviction as I used to be. Doubt is starting to creep in, and it’s swiftly followed by guilt. I so badly want his words to be true, but if they are, that would mean my best friend lied to me. It isn’t possible — she’d never lie to me only to take her own life. It doesn’t make any sense.

Zane’s hand slides down my waist, and he sighs as he begins to stir. His eyes flutter open, and he smiles at me. My heart beats wildly, and I draw a shaky breath, wanting this moment to last forever but knowing it won’t.

He blinks a few times before abruptly sitting up, the sheets bunching around his waist as he runs a hand through his hair, his gaze roaming over my childhood bedroom and the trail of clothes around us. Zane’s eyes fall closed, and I watch as his entire body tenses, every drop of tenderness melting away as his shields click back into place.

I miss him. I didn’t even realize how much until last night. “Zane,” I whisper, sitting up and holding up the blankets to cover my bare body.

He glances at me, his gaze unreadable. “We should go home. I have some work to do before I head over to my grandmother’s.”

It’s odd to hear him sound so… distant after the way he looked at me last night. Regret is written all over his face, and he sighs as he turns to get out of bed. I grab his arm, letting the covers fall off my chest as I hold on to him. His entire body tenses, and he glances at my hands, mild irritation in his gaze. “I’ll come with you,” I tell him. “To your grandmother’s house.”

Surprise flickers through his eyes, and some of the tension eases from his shoulders. “You will?”

I nod. “You mentioned it was becoming harder to make up excuses, right? We can’t spend the next three years like this. I… I think it might be better if we…” Nerves dance across my skin, and he raises a brow as he waits for me to finish my sentence. “Let’s pretend,” I end up saying, unable to craft the right words out of my thoughts and feelings.

“Pretend?”

“Our families are worried about us, so I thought… well… wouldn’t it be easier if we show them what they want to see? I appreciate what you did for me yesterday with my parents, and if I can, I’d like to do the same for you. I know you find this hard to believe, but I don’t want to always be fighting with you.”

He studies my face carefully and sighs. “Celeste,” he murmurs as he reaches for my duvet and wraps it around my shoulders, shielding my body from his view. “I don’t know. It’s not a bad idea, I suppose. Three years is quite a long time, and the last thing I want to do is worry everyone around us. It’s just…”

He looks away and musses his hair. I tear my gaze off his torso, feeling strangely flustered. Something about this moment feels so intimate, even after everything we did last night.

“What is it?” I whisper.

He sighs and lies back down, his eyes on mine. “You hurt my siblings more than you could possibly know. I never told the boys what you did to me, Celeste, because I didn’t think they could take it. They loved you with all they had, and you abandoned them. I get why, but they don’t. From their point of view, we broke up in the worst way, and you cut them out of your life despite their best attempts to hold on. They would have, you know? They loved you so much they’d have stayed friends with you even though you broke my heart, because they never knew any of the details, they didn’t know about the way you betrayed me.”

Fresh grief hits me in waves, and I bite down on my lip, unable to face him. There’s so much I regret about what I did five years ago, but hurting them ranks highest on that list.

“I’m worried about reintroducing you to their lives, because in three years, they’ll lose you all over again. I don’t want them to see you as my wife, as one of us. That place… someday, it’ll belong to someone else, and when I eventually find someone I want to spend my life with, I don’t want her to have to step into your shoes.”

Sharp pain sears through my heart, and I force air into my lungs, his words reverberating in my mind over and over again. The thought of someone else in our home, in his bed… it kills me. Is this how Lily felt when she found out we were getting married?

I get it now.

The agony is barely tolerable, and in my case, the woman in his future doesn’t even have a face. She isn’t someone I know and love.

“I understand,” I tell him, my voice breaking as I slip out of bed, uncaring about the cold air hitting my skin in a desperate attempt to get away before I burst into tears. I shouldn’t even want this with him, but I can’t help myself. With each passing day, it becomes harder to remember the past, the hatred. More and more often, I just want to lose myself in him, in the moments of happiness I feel with him. I haven’t felt whole since I walked away from him, and I want to. I want everything we used to have, everything we were.

Zane’s arm wraps around my waist before I can take another step, and I gasp as he pulls me back onto the bed, my back crashing against his chest. He holds me tightly and presses his forehead to my shoulder, his breathing erratic. “Forget it. You should come,” he whispers, his tone conveying his torment. “I’ll bring you with me.”

My heart skips a beat, hope rising as my eyes flutter closed. “No,” I murmur, my voice thick. “You’re right. It’s… it’s not my place.”

He sighs and tightens his grip on me. “You’re coming with me tonight,” he says, his tone brooking no argument. I lean back against him, my eyes burning with unshed tears. This is what Lily told me she feared — that I’d end up forgiving him, and she’d have to watch me do it. I promised her I wouldn’t, but with each passing day, that promise becomes harder to keep.