Chapter 6

• Emerson
• As soon as Raven disappeared up the stairs, the silence between me and Clark became suffocating. For a long moment, neither of us said a word. We just stood there, facing each other in the dim light of the kitchen, exchanging silent glares. The tension in the air was so thick I could practically taste it. My fists clenched at my sides, and I felt a wave of possessive anger rise in my chest.
• Clark, of course, broke the silence first, his voice a low drawl. “Why are you staring at me like that, Emerson?” His eyes gleamed with a smugness that made my skin crawl.
• I folded my arms across my chest, trying to keep my temper in check. “Because I know whatever your reason is for staying here, it’s not a good one,” I said evenly. My voice was calm, but inside I was boiling. “And now that Raven is my wife, I’m not going to tolerate you making any kind of sexual advances toward her.”
• Clark’s lips curved into a sly smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Relax, cousin,” he said, his tone mocking. “You’re worrying about the wrong thing. You should be asking yourself if Raven is the one you need to be concerned about.”
• My jaw tightened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
• Clark took a step closer, his posture relaxed, but the tension between us was palpable. “I mean, you’re so focused on me, but have you asked yourself if Raven truly loves you?” His voice dropped to a whisper, as if he were sharing some dark secret. “Because from what I’ve seen, she seems to be having second thoughts.”
• I felt a chill run through me, but I refused to show it. “My marriage is none of your business,” I shot back, my voice harsher than I intended.
• Clark’s smile widened, and he gave a small shrug, as if he couldn’t care less. “You’re right, it’s not,” he said smoothly. “But you’re a fool if you think you can keep her just by slapping a ring on her finger.”
• I narrowed my eyes at him, my fists clenching tighter. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
• Clark leaned in closer, his breath hot against my skin as he whispered, “It means that Raven is slipping away from you, cousin. And no matter how hard you try to hold onto her, she’s already slipping through your fingers.”
• I recoiled, stepping back as anger surged through me. “You don’t know anything about my marriage,” I growled. “Stay out of it.”
• Clark chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I know more than you think, Emerson. But fine. If you want to live in denial, that’s your choice.”
• He turned on his heel and walked toward the door, his back to me, but before he left the kitchen, he glanced over his shoulder one last time. “Just remember, Emerson,” he said, his voice deadly quiet. “You can’t keep what doesn’t want to stay.”
• With that, he was gone, leaving me standing alone in the kitchen, my heart pounding in my chest.
• I stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the spot where Clark had been just moments ago. His words echoed in my head, taunting me, gnawing at the edges of my mind.
• Did Raven still love me?
• I shook my head, trying to dismiss the thought. No. Clark was trying to get under my skin. That’s all it was. Raven was just… upset. That’s all. Everything had been chaotic lately, but I could fix it. I could make things right between us.
• But as I headed upstairs, my thoughts kept circling back to Clark’s words. Had Raven changed? She had been acting strange, colder, more distant since we arrived at the estate. And earlier tonight… the way she looked at me. It was like she wasn’t seeing me at all, like I was just a stranger standing in front of her.
• The memory of her pushing me away earlier resurfaced, a sharp pang in my chest. I had never felt so… rejected by her before. And it stung more than I cared to admit.
• When I reached our bedroom, I paused outside the door, my hand resting on the doorknob. Inside, I could hear the faint sounds of Raven moving around, likely getting ready for bed. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
• I had to fix this. Whatever was happening between us, I had to make it right.
• I pushed open the door and stepped inside, half-expecting her to greet me, to acknowledge me in some way. But she didn’t. Raven was already in bed, the covers pulled up around her, her back turned to me.
• “Raven,” I said, my voice softer now, hoping to bridge the gap between us.
• She didn’t respond.
• I walked over to the side of the bed, watching her for a moment. She was still, her breathing steady, as if she were already asleep. But I knew better. I knew she was awake, pretending not to hear me.
• “Raven, we need to talk,” I tried again, my voice firmer this time.
• She shifted slightly under the covers but still didn’t turn to face me. Frustration bubbled up inside me, and I reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. The moment my fingers touched her, she jerked away, her entire body recoiling from my touch.
• That hurt.
• “What is wrong with you?” I demanded, my voice rising with frustration. “Why are you acting like this?”
• She still didn’t answer. The silence was deafening.
• I stood there, staring down at her, my hand hovering in the air, unsure of what to do next. Everything felt wrong. Everything felt off. This wasn’t how our relationship used to be. We had been happy once, hadn’t we? So why was she pulling away now?
• “Raven, talk to me,” I pleaded, my tone softer now, almost desperate.
• Finally, she rolled over, her eyes meeting mine for the first time that night. There was something in her gaze that I couldn’t place—something cold and distant, as if she was looking right through me.
• “I don’t want to talk,” she said quietly, her voice emotionless.
• I stared at her, my heart sinking. “Raven, we’re married. We’re supposed to be in this together. Why won’t you let me in?”
• For a moment, she said nothing, her gaze hard and unyielding. And then, just as quietly as before, she whispered, “Maybe I don’t want to be in this anymore.”
• Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.
• I staggered back, stunned, the weight of her confession settling in. “What… what are you saying?”
• Raven sat up, pulling the covers tighter around her as if shielding herself from me. Her expression was unreadable, but the tension between us was undeniable.
• “I’m saying that maybe this marriage was a mistake,” she said, her voice sharper now, each word cutting through me like a knife.
• I couldn’t breathe. My mind reeled, trying to make sense of what she was saying. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not after everything we’d been through.
• “Raven, no—” I began, but she cut me off with a shake of her head.
• “Just leave, Emerson,” she said, her voice cold. “I don’t want to do this tonight.”
• I stood there for a long moment, staring at her, my chest tight with a mixture of anger and hurt. I wanted to yell, to demand answers, to make her explain what the hell had happened to us.
• But I didn’t.
• Instead, I turned and walked out of the room, the door closing softly behind me, leaving me alone with the weight of her words.
• Maybe this marriage was a mistake.
• Those words haunted me long into the night, even as I tried to sleep.