The Silence Between Them
767 Words
Raina stood by the window, arms crossed over her chest as she stared out at the rain. It had started pouring moments after Jaxon walked out of the room, and it now drummed against the glass like a warning from the heavens. Everything inside her was trembling—her hands, her breath, her will to keep pretending she was okay.
She hated this.
Not the mansion. Not even Jaxon, no matter how much she told herself she should.
She hated the silence between them. It wasn’t the kind of silence that comforted—it was the one that cracked something deep inside, something she couldn’t fix with words.
The door opened again. She didn’t turn. She didn’t need to. She knew his footsteps already. Soft, composed, always controlled—just like the man himself.
“You didn’t eat,” Jaxon said, his voice low but steady.
She gave a dry laugh. “And you suddenly care?”
His silence answered.
When she finally turned, his eyes were already on her. He stood by the door, his suit jacket gone now, sleeves rolled to his elbows, jaw clenched in that same infuriating way that told her he was doing everything not to say what he really wanted to say.
“Why did you do it?” she asked, arms still folded, voice tight. “Why me?”
Jaxon exhaled slowly, walking closer. He didn’t stop until they were just a breath apart. “Because you were the only one who didn’t see me as a transaction.”
She flinched.
“And that made it okay to trap me into a marriage?” Her voice cracked at the end.
He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked at her like she was a puzzle he couldn’t solve, like he was trying to find the right piece but nothing fit.
“You were… safe,” he said finally. “Real. And I needed something real in my life.”
“You don’t trap someone into something real, Jaxon,” she snapped, stepping back, eyes glistening. “You don’t destroy their freedom and then ask for their heart.”
Jaxon looked down briefly, the tension in his shoulders betraying the calm expression on his face. “You want the truth, Raina? I’ve spent so long building empires that I forgot how to be a man. I forgot how to feel anything beyond contracts and deadlines and boardroom deals. You—”
“Stop,” she whispered, holding a hand up. “Don’t romanticize this. Don’t make it sound like I was your salvation. I didn’t ask to be.”
Silence hung heavy.
Her voice softened then. “I had dreams too, you know. I had plans for my life. And now I’m here, in your ring, living someone else’s script.”
Jaxon ran a hand through his dark hair, visibly struggling. He walked over to the fireplace and leaned against the mantle, eyes closed. “I never planned for it to be this way. I just—”
“Did it anyway.” She finished for him.
She walked over to the couch and sat down, finally too tired to keep standing. Her body was heavy. Her heart heavier.
“Did you even consider asking me?” she murmured.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he slowly approached and knelt in front of her, eyes level with hers. His hands rested on her knees, tentative.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and for once, it wasn’t rehearsed or robotic.
It was raw.
“I know I’ve hurt you. And maybe I can’t undo it. But I didn’t bring you here just to own you. I brought you here because I was afraid I’d never get the chance to know what it feels like… to be loved for who I am. Not what I have.”
A tear slipped from her eye. She didn’t wipe it.
“I’m not some cure to your emptiness, Jaxon,” she whispered. “You can’t fill the cracks in your soul by caging someone else’s.”
He bowed his head, fingers tightening slightly against her legs. “Then tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it.”
She didn’t answer right away.
Because she didn’t know.
All she knew was that somewhere in the storm between them, something was breaking. Or maybe… healing.
But the question was—would it be enough?
Would it ever be enough to make her heart stop seeing him as the man who stole her freedom, and start seeing him as the man who might one day deserve her love?
- Writer
