Secrets I've Held in My Heart

Chapter 10 : Christian

Standing in the grand main hall, my anxiety consumed me like a relentless tide; each tap of my foot on the polished marble floor echoed the frantic rhythm of my racing heart. The opulent surroundings, once a testament to our family's affluence and status, now seemed to blur into insignificance. All I could focus on was the enigmatic conversation unfolding before my eyes, a private pact between Ava and Jonas that left me teetering on the precipice of despair.

Moments later, my heart plummeted as I spotted my father, a formidable figure in his own right, his towering frame surging towards me with tempestuous fury. His face contorted with anger, his brows knitted together in a menacing scowl. I knew exactly what had incited this tempestuous storm - the unexpected return of Jonas.

"How dare he come back after whatever the hell he did," my father's voice boomed through the hall, his fury reverberating off the walls like thunder. The tension in the room was palpable, the air heavy with the electric charge of unspoken turmoil. I realized that I needed to intervene swiftly, before my father's temper ignited a full-blown conflagration that could consume us all.

"Dad! Dad," I called out with a blend of urgency and trepidation, my voice quivering ever so slightly. The pit of my stomach churned with fear, but I had to forge ahead. "You need to hear me out," I implored, stepping closer to him. My voice trembled, a reflection of my inner turmoil. "There's something you don't know about Jonas."

His anger began to wane, curiosity replacing it as he narrowed his eyes at me, his features morphing from a storm cloud into something akin to reluctant interest.

"What are you talking about, Christian?" he demanded, his voice still sharp but no longer seething with the venom that had coursed through him moments ago.

Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for my father's reaction, each inhalation feeling like inhaling a gust of frigid wind. Every word I uttered felt like stepping on thin ice, uncertain if it would hold. "Jonas is innocent, Dad. He didn't bail out from the wedding. In fact, he was injured; he was in a coma back then."

My father's expression shifted from rage to disbelief, like a sudden break in the tempest. His eyes widened, incredulity etching lines across his face. "What? How do you know?"

I proceeded to recount the events of the past few hours, my own investigations, the evidence I had uncovered, and the shocking truth that had come to light. Slowly, like a thawing glacier, my father's face softened, and his anger dissolved into a mix of emotions - shock, relief, and guilt.

"Where is Jonas now?" he asked, his voice less accusatory and more laden with concern.

I hesitated for a moment before replying, my words chosen with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel, aware of the consequences they carried. "I let Ava talk to him. I believe she deserves a closure."

My father's anger flared up again, his face turning a shade of crimson like a smouldering ember. "You foolish boy! Ava had finally decided to move on, and now, after learning Jonas is innocent, do you really think she can ever see you as her husband?"

"But Dad, I can't hide the truth from her. She deserves to know it," I argued, my voice tinged with desperation.

He sighed, his grip on my shoulder firm but less condemning. "It's not just about what she deserves; it's about the consequences. Don't you realize that now that she knows about Jonas' innocence, she might regret marrying you?" He shook his head in disappointment, like a seasoned general contemplating a battlefield error. "To say you're an MBA gold medalist, but when it's about Ava, you act like the dumbest person in the world."

Determined to prevent the chaos that my father predicted, I left him behind and headed toward Ava's room, the weight of my decisions pressing heavily on my shoulders.

As I approached, my hand resting on the doorknob, I couldn't help but overhear their conversation. "I still love you, Jonas," Ava's voice trembled with emotion.

My heart sank further. Unknowingly, I had opened a Pandora's box, revealing a truth that had the power to reshape all our lives once again.

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. Regret and guilt washed over me, and I realized the gravity of my impulsive actions. If only I had investigated Jonas' whereabouts right after he disappeared from the wedding, Ava wouldn't be in this painful dilemma. She deserved her own chance at happiness, and it was all my fault that she found herself in this heart-wrenching situation.

I couldn't decide what hurt more: hearing Ava confess her love to Jonas or the knowledge that my actions had pushed her to that point, where despite being married to me, she felt compelled to admit her feelings for Jonas.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I felt them drop onto the knuckles of my tightly clenched hand, which held the doorknob. The warmth and then the cool sensation of those tears brought me back to my senses. I wiped my tears away, took a deep breath, and gathered my thoughts. It was time to face the consequences of my actions.

With newfound resolve, I knocked on the door, pushed the doorknob, and slowly opened it, prepared to face whatever lay on the other side.

With a forced smile that concealed my inner despair, I entered Ava's room and addressed Jonas sternly, "Time's up." I directed my gaze to Kai and gestured at him to escort Jonas out of the room. Kai swiftly complied, leaving just Ava and me alone in her room.

"It's time to have dinner, Moonlight," I offered my palm for her to take as I intended to escort her to the dining hall.

"I don't have any appetite," she replied, her face and voice betraying the traces of her earlier tears.

"I'm not offering, suggesting, or informing," I responded in an authoritative tone. "I'm commanding. Next time, if you ever fall unconscious, then we will need two ambulances, one for you and one for me because today, you nearly gave me a heart attack. You'll have your dinner. Right now. No discussions."

Ava started to protest, but I knew I couldn't afford to let her decline my command. I sighed in frustration, swiped my hand behind her back, and gently scooped her up into my arms.

"Christian, let me down," she pleaded, struggling to get free, but I paid no heed to her protests. I was determined to ensure she ate, even if it meant using force. With Ava in my arms, I began making my way toward the dining hall, resolved to take care of her, no matter what.

A FEW MINUTES LATER…

As we finished our dinner, we began to head towards our respective rooms, the weight of the day bearing down on us, my father's voice, solemn and authoritative, cut through the corridor like a command.

"Wait," he said, his tone brooking no argument. We halted in our tracks, turning to face him.

Ava's eyes met mine, a flicker of uncertainty dancing within their depths. I could sense her apprehension, mirroring my own. The day had been tumultuous enough, and the unexpected twist my father was about to introduce held the promise of even greater turmoil.

"Christian," he began, addressing me first, "Ava is now your wife. She should sleep in your room." His voice was measured, his expression resolute.

Ava's gaze shifted from me to my father, her eyes wide with astonishment. "But, Uncle Alfre—"

Dad held up a hand, silencing her objections. "It's tradition, Ava. You two are married now, and it's only fitting that you share a room." He turned his gaze back to me, his eyes unwavering. "Take care of her, Christian."

I exchanged a fleeting, bewildered glance with Ava and then nodded in acquiescence. The weight of the decision hung heavy in the air, the gravity of our newfound circumstances sinking in.

To be continued…