Balance: Benedict Bridgerton's Tale

Chapter 20: Ruse

Hello, initially this Chapter was going to be longer.. way longer but it is pas two AM over here and thought I'd leave it there. I (re)used (used it in a previous fic) a cliché-ic storyline, apologies if that is too cringy but I had to have a reason to write.. something something. I took creative liberties and as always, as I do not have a BETA, sorry for shitty grammar.

P.s.. Thanks for the lovely comments, to see that people are rooting for the couple makes me happy. Love you all.

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They seemed to be standing there for centuries, as if time stood still... the recognition of souls was not instantaneous but gradual... and mostly unavoidable.

"I hate when you do this" he brought out, half out of breath still from the exertion of running.

He could see she did not understand what he was referring to.

"Run from me. I hate it when you run from me", he explained and let his eyes pass over her.

She appeared weary, exhausted, as if she hadn't slept properly for weeks but what alarmed him most was her expression, which he couldn't quite define but her eyes seemed to be lifeless....

"Alina. Are you okay... I was so worried... you suddenly disappeared, I... I didn't know where you were. I've been looking for you," he brought in a voice that broke.

"I'm so happy to see you," he smiled earnestly and, as always, in a way that seemed so conquering that it broke her of her piece. Almost anyway because the Alina standing before him was no longer the Alina he knew.

She had changed, become bitter, twisted with guilt she felt in her whole body and every time she looked at his son. And angry. Angry at herself but also at him.

Her fingers found his grip on her and with a jerk she detached herself, stepping backwards, putting distance between them.

"You shouldn't have come here," she stated.

"I had to, after two years of searching for you," Benedict replied.

"I didn't ask you to look for me. I don't want anything to do with you at all," she spoke with an intonation that would turn any man to stone, cold and calculating.

She could see his heart was breaking, right in front of her but she didn't care, at least that's how she told herself. The past few years, being with him had brought her nothing but misery. If this was supposed to be 'love' then she had had enough for the rest of her life.

She was hurting he could tell, behind the facade of stone, emotions were seeping through, and he wanted nothing more than to comfort her.

"Alina" he stated with a compassionate glance, reducing the distance between them but she flinched, determined though her movements were weak, her intentions lacking.

An interlude of silence. Uncomfortable silence.

"What happened? Why did you leave London? I know it has got to do with Tommy, but I would like to know the details" asked Benedict softly, with an earnest gaze, weighing his words carefully, at least that was his intention. However, he should not have mentioned Tommy's name he understood a few seconds later.

"Don't you dare mention his name," she demanded in a shrill voice.

"And I don't have to explain anything to you. Not now. Or ever," she continued whereupon he was silent again for a few moments.

"Fine" he said decidedly.

"Then let me go over my theory with you if I may," he suggested.

"You may not", she replied but Benedict pretended not to hear of anything.