Bab 18: Chapter Eighteen

Callan stared at me, his face hard and unreadable. And beautiful. I had no idea someone could possess such beauty, let alone a man. My hands twitched in my lap, itching to reach out and run a finger along his striking features. Callan's voice rang out, drawing me from my thoughts. 

 "He is dead?" he asked, a curious glint in his eyes. I shook my head no, at least I know that much. 

 "He is here, somewhere. My husband and I tracked down his old place. I wanted to find him, you see. But he was not there, only a message left for me engraved under a wooden table. He said that he had come here and that…" Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away. "That I shouldn't come and find him." 

 "And your," he cleared his throat, agitation in his voice. "Husband," he bit out . "He was your husband truly? The marriage was consummated?" 

 My cheeks warmed at the intimate question. I nodded once, and looked down at my hands that lay clasped in my lap.