Secluded with the Rogue

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

G enevieve sat by the window, watching the snow fall in thick, relentless sheets outside. The storm had blanketed everything in a heavy silence, the kind that only deepened her restless thoughts. Being trapped in the house with Alexander was making it impossible to ignore the past, impossible to forget how he had shattered her heart five years ago.

Every glance, every accidental touch, stirred up memories she had worked so hard to bury. She remembered the way his touch had once set her skin alight, the way he used to look at her as if she was the only person in the world. And she remembered the cold emptiness that had followed when he had ended their courtship so abruptly, without a word of explanation, disappearing from her life like she had not meant anything at all.

Her chest tightened with a mixture of anger and unresolved hurt. She thought she had moved on from the pain, but now that they were stuck in such close quarters, the wounds felt fresh again, like they had never fully healed.

Genevieve clenched her hands into fists, the fire of old emotions simmering dangerously close to the surface. It had been building ever since Alexander had arrived at Carrington Manor, this tension, this push and pull between what they once had and what they had lost, and she could not take it any longer.

Without giving herself a chance to second-guess, she stood abruptly and strode from the room, searching for him. She found Alexander in the study, sitting near the fire with a glass of whisky in his hand, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Genevieve,” he said, surprised to see her. “I did not hear you?—”

She cut him off, her voice sharp. “Why are you here, Alexander?”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard by the coldness in her tone. “What do you mean? The storm?—”

“No,” she snapped, stepping closer. “Why are you here, in this house, at this moment? Why are you not with your brother? Edmund is grieving too. He did not even come to the winter ball. You should be with him, helping him through this. Not here.”

The room fell silent, the air thick with the weight of her accusation. Alexander set his glass down and stood, his expression hardening. “I came to pay my respects to your family,” he said evenly, though there was an edge to his voice. “Edmund is unwell, but he insisted I go. We both have our own ways of dealing with grief, Genevieve.”

“Is that what you are doing?” she asked, her voice laced with bitterness. “Dealing with your grief? By hiding away in my house, pretending like nothing has happened?”

Alexander’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. “That is not fair.”

“Fair?” Genevieve laughed bitterly. “You are right. Life is not fair, is it? It was not fair when you left me five years ago without a single explanation. It was not fair when you broke my heart and disappeared.”

For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire.

Alexander stared at her, his expression unreadable, before he finally spoke. “I did not have a choice,” he said quietly, his voice thick with frustration. “I thought you understood that.”

“Understood what?” she demanded, her voice rising. “That you were suddenly too good for me? That your father wanted you to marry someone with a higher status? That is what you left me for, was it not?”

Alexander stepped closer, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and something deeper—something that made Genevieve’s heart ache despite herself.

“It was not that simple,” he said, his voice growing harder. “Do you think I wanted to leave? Do you think I wanted to walk away from the only person who ever made me feel like I could be more than just a title? I had responsibilities, Genevieve. My father made it clear what was expected of me, and I did not have the luxury of defying him.”

Genevieve scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “You could have fought for us, Alexander. You could have fought for me. But you did not. You walked away without even giving me a reason, without even telling me goodbye.”

The hurt in her voice was undeniable, and for the first time, Alexander’s anger seemed to falter. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident.

“I thought I was protecting you,” he said, his voice low. “I thought it would be easier if I just left. I did not want to drag you into the mess that my life was becoming. My father… he was relentless, and I was expected to do what was best for the family.”

Genevieve’s heart clenched, but she refused to let his words soften her resolve. “So, you decided what was best for me too? Without even giving me a choice?”

Alexander’s jaw tightened, but he did not look away. “It was not fair to you, and I know that now. But at the time, I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“The right thing?” She shook her head, disbelief coloring her words. “You broke me, Alexander. You left me with nothing but questions, wondering what I had done wrong. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

Her voice cracked, and she hated herself for letting him see just how deeply he had hurt her. But the truth was out now, and there was no taking it back.

Alexander’s face softened, and he took a step closer, his eyes filled with regret. “Genevieve… I never wanted to hurt you. You were everything to me.”

She swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. “Then why did not you fight for us?”

For a moment, the silence between them was unbearable. The fire cast flickering shadows on the walls, and outside, the storm raged on.

Finally, Alexander spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “Because I was a coward,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “I thought I was doing what was expected of me, but the truth is, I was afraid. Afraid of disappointing my father, afraid of the consequences of choosing my own path. I should have fought for you, for us. But I did not.”

Genevieve’s breath hitched at the raw honesty in his words, and for the first time in years, she saw the man she had once loved—the man she had thought was lost to her forever.

But it was not enough. The pain was still there, too deep to be erased by a simple confession.

“I cannot forgive you for what you did,” she said, her voice trembling. “Not yet.”

Alexander nodded, his eyes dark with understanding. “I know. And I do not expect you to. But I want to make it right, Genevieve. If you will let me.”

Her heart ached with the weight of his words, but she could not bring herself to trust him again. Not yet.

“We are snowed in, Alexander,” she said quietly. “We cannot go anywhere, and neither can this conversation. Let’s just… leave it for now.”

Alexander nodded, his gaze lingering on hers for a moment longer before he turned back toward the fire. But even as he did, Genevieve could not shake the feeling that this was not over. Not by a long shot.

The storm outside was relentless, but the one between them had only just begun.