The Substitute Bride Is Reborn and Loves Her Husband No more - Chapter 117

Chapter 117: This is all about you

Rolan had been gone too long.

It was in Rose’s tenseness of shoulders, in the hardness of her grip around the arms of her chairs. Damien’s pacing had ended ten minutes earlier and now Damien stood stiff as a statue, arms crossed over his chest, jaw snapping on every few seconds.

Zara had gone mute. That was enough to arouse alarms itself.

And then, finally—footsteps.

Rolan appeared among the trees like a storm cloud brewing, shirt crumpled, dirt smeared across one sleeve, a scratch spreading red on his jaw.

“Where the hell were you?” Damien’s voice snapped before Rolan even spoke.

“Handled it,” Rolan answered, brief and icy, like the words scorched coming out.

“Managed what?” Rose snapped back, her tone harder than she meant. “We’re out here in the middle of nowhere and you just vanish?”

Rolan did not answer her. He didn’t even look her direction.

That, above all else, stung.

Damien stepped forward. “Think you’re some sort of hero? Running off on your own like this?”

Rolan’s face turned to him, eyes cold. “I don’t need your permission to clean up a mess.”

“And we don’t have to be sitting ducks while you play lone wolf.”

“I wasn’t playing.”

“Then explain the blood.”

The two men glared at each other, rage smoldering as if a fuse had been lit. Zara stood by, mouth moving as if she wanted to cut in but had no clue how.

Rose cleared her throat. “If something happened out there, we have a right to know.”

“I said it’s taken care of.” Rolan’s tone was final.

No, she said to him, glancing sternly. “That’s no longer good enough.”

Something gave inside his face, like she had hit a tender spot. But he stood to the side and growled some inaudible word.

Damien frowned and planted hands on hips. “You wish to be a big tough boy, so be it. Just do not take the rest of us along for ride on your private war.”

Rolan whipped around. “This is all about you?

“I think this is about her,” Damien bit out, pointing a sharp glance at Rose. “And you’re making decisions like she’s not standing right here.”

Rose’s breath caught.

For a second, everything froze.

And in that silence, Rolan looked at her—finally—and there was something aching in his eyes.

Zara spread out the lunch like it was any other day—her voice overly bright, cracking jokes that didn’t quite land.

“Okay, if I don’t eat in the next five minutes, I’m going to start gnawing on Damien’s arm. No offense, soldier boy.”

Damien grinned. “None taken. Wouldn’t be the first time someone tried it.”

Rose managed a weak laugh. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Rolan said nothing, standing slightly to one side with his arms folded, still dust-smudged, watching everything like it was a war zone.

Zara pushed a sandwich into Rose’s hand and then passed another to Damien. “You’re being creepy,” she said lightly. “Both of you.”

Damien raised a brow. “You’ll have to narrow that down.”

Zara pointed at him with her juice bottle. “You. You’re hovering. Chill with the nurse routine.”

Damien laughed, easy and low, but his eyes flicked to Rose. “I don’t mind helping.”

He stooped to straighten the bent angle of her chair wheel, fingers glancing against hers in the process. Rose remained still.

Rolan shifted, his jaw flexing once.

“I’m fine,” Rose spoke, in a breath

Damien stood but remained near. “I know. Doesn’t mean you don’t need someone watching out for you.”

Zara let out a too-loud pretend cough. “Okay, anyway, I’m going to eat this sandwich before I pass out.”

Rose hardly touched hers.

Rolan hadn’t moved. Not a single inch.

The silence lingered, then Damien gazed out at the water. “Might be nice to get on further out towards the edge. There’s some shade there. Want me to take you down? Just us?”

He said it with nonchalance. Like it meant nothing.

It didn’t.

Not to Rolan.

Rose felt it—the tension in the air. Rolan’s back stiffened, his eyes on Damien as if he’d said something wrong.

No, Rolan responded, low, controlled. “She doesn’t need you showing her off like she can’t take care of herself.”

Damien did not flinch. “And letting her starve is better?”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Then what are you doing?”

The words lingered.

Zara watched them back and forth, muttering under her breath, “Here we go again.”

Rose didn’t stop it.

She didn’t respond to either of them.

She just looked up at Damien, then over at Rolan—measured, intent—and laid down her sandwich, uneaten.

“Can the two of you stop fighting over her like she doesn’t have a voice?” Zara snapped, slamming her water bottle down hard enough to have it thudding.

The words hurt like a punch.

Nobody said anything.

Damien let out a sigh, raking his hand through his hair. “I’m not speaking for her.”

Rolan gave him a glare, his face a searing heat. “You sure as hell do behave that way.”.

Damien snorted. “Humorous. That’s what I was thinking of you.”

“I don’t have to stand beside her every other minute to prove something.”

“No, you just mope there like that is going to be enough.”

“Better than pretending to care for points.”

Zara stood up. “I swear to god, the two of you are draining. She’s not some trophy for a pissing contest.”

But Rose did not break in.

Did not defend.

Did not move.

She sat still, eyes flicking between the two men. Quiet. Intense. Like she was watching a movie she’d already seen a thousand times—and was waiting for the moment when it stopped being disappointing.

Her silence grew more deafening than anything they’d said.

It made Damien pause. Made Rolan actually glance.

Zara blinked, stuttering. “Rose…”

Still nothing.

Rose’s expression didn’t falter. But her eyes—oh, her eyes—were a storm.

Zara sat down again, sullen now, nibbling her lip as though she regretted speaking.

Rolan’s palms dropped to his thighs. Looked like he was about to say something—maybe even a sorry—but words were jammed. Swallowed.

Damien watched her silently, his own face impassive now.

Finally, Rose rotated her head. Looked right at Damien.

“You were right,” she barely breathed.

“I should’ve accepted your help earlier.”

She didn’t smile. Didn’t offer softness. Just facts. Truth served like a dagger—clean and deliberate.

Rolan didn’t move. He didn’t speak. But the shift in his eyes was undeniable.

Ice.

She could see it—the way his jaw clenched. The way something behind his eyes iced over, brick by brick.