Chapter 3

I slowly snapped out of it. Realizing I probably looked awful, I rubbed my eyes. My voice came out hoarse. "It wasn't me. I didn't say anything."

Samuel kept staring at me, and after a long pause, he finally asked, "W-What's wrong with you?"

In three years of our marriage contract, this was the first time he'd ever sounded concerned. Honestly, I'd rather he kept being his usual, cold self in front of me.

I forced a smile. "It's nothing. Can you leave me alone tonight? I'm exhausted."

Samuel's eyes flickered with something I couldn't quite read, but it quickly shifted to impatience and annoyance. "Like I care about you. I'm only here to grab something."

This was our "home," but he'd made it clear before the wedding: he wasn't interested in a real relationship.

He married me for two reasons: first, Maggie had gone abroad and I could be her stand-in; secondly, he wanted to get his parents off his back, since they didn't like Maggie.

I was too tired to care. That dream had wiped me out. I rolled over and closed my eyes, letting him do whatever he was doing.

I had no idea how long I'd been asleep, but something felt off. A warm breath lingered against my skin, brushing my face and the tip of my nose.

I frowned, and the heat moved closer.

I blinked, half-asleep, and saw Heathcliff's face again. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw his refined features, the long lashes, and those tender eyes.

I couldn't tell if I was dreaming, but I felt my vision blur. My throat caught, and my hand trembled as I reached for his face. "Sam, are you back?"

I expected to feel nothing but air, but instead, my fingers brushed against his face. It had to be a dream.

He looked at me with such longing, like the night he gave me that cross. I fell into his eyes and never wanted to come up for air.

"Your eyes are so beautiful," I drew in a shaky breath and whispered, feeling lightheaded. I leaned in and kissed his brow.

Then, I felt his hand gently cup the back of my head, his minty breath mingling with mine.

Waves of emotion surged in those eyes, and then he closed his eyes slowly, enjoying the kiss.

Then he whispered against my ear, his voice low and tender, "Catherine, let's try to start a happy life, okay?"

Even through the haze, I realized it was Samuel's voice.

Samuel and Heathcliff were twins with the same nicknames. But they weren't exactly the same. Heathcliff had a mole on his nose. Samuel didn't. Heathcliff's neck was clean; Samuel had a jagged, ugly scar on the left side of his neck.

I snapped awake. Everything became painfully clear, and the sweet, temporary buzz of the dream turned into a bitter, crushing disappointment.

His lips were still on mine, and I shoved him away hard.

Samuel opened his eyes, looking ruffled. He sounded defensive, even though he knew he was guilty. "What, can't a husband kiss his wife? You seemed pretty into it a second ago."

When I moved in close, he knew I was out of it, and he'd taken the chance anyway.

For the first time in three years, I completely panicked. My face went pale as I scrambled off the bed.

Honestly, things between Samuel and me had been pretty smooth these past three years.

He had Maggie, so he never wanted to get close to me. And I had Heathcliff. I only needed to look at Samuel's face every now and then to stop the hole in my chest from growing.

That was how I was going to survive until I could finish my business and go meet Heathcliff in another world.

But something had gone off the rails. I felt frantic, fumbling for all the paperwork needed for divorce. My words were tripping over each other. "Maggie's back. If you want, um, we can go to—"