I pushed away the voice urging caution and when I opened my mouth the words that tumbled out surprised even me.

‘My grandmother was a feminists’ feminist. She hated every aspect of a patriarchy that dictated what she could and couldn’t do. She especially hated it when my grandfather died and everyone expected her to remarry because she had a young daughter to care for.’

I caught the edge of Ax’s puzzled frown and couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips.

‘She never did remarry, but after she lost her house she was forced to live with my parents. I grew up in the shadows of her rebellion. She urged me to stand my ground. To question everything.’

His frown cleared, a droll look entering his grey eyes. ‘Ah. I see.’

‘Needless to say she butted heads with my father almost on a daily basis.’

Ax tensed. Not wanting the mood tarnished, I passed my hand over his chest—a soothing gesture that worked with Andreos but might not work with his father. My breath caught when he exhaled after a handful of seconds.

‘Anyway, I found out on my wedding day that she’d left me an envelope. My mother was to give it to me when she thought I needed it.’

A trace of regret flashed across his face. ‘She thought you’d need it the day you married me.’

It wasn’t a question, more of an acceptance of how things had turned out.

I shrugged. ‘Besides my father, none of us knew much about you. What little I knew before we met at the altar I found out online,’ I said, recognising but unable to stop the hint of censure in my tone.

The regret in his eyes deepened as he nodded. ‘I accept that. So your father really kept you in the dark about everything?’

‘Yes. And it wasn’t anything new. He did that most of my life.’

‘Why?’

The whisper of family shame slithered over my skin. ‘Surely you’ve heard the rumours?’

‘I prefer facts to rumours,’ he stated.

I didn’t bother to ask what he’d heard. I wanted this discussion over as quickly as possible.

‘My mother left home when I was fifteen. She’d met another man and was planning on leaving my father. But they were involved in an accident. The man died. My mother survived—obviously—but she suffered a spine injury and... Well, you’ve seen her. My father brought her back home and promised to take care of her—under certain conditions.’

The hand that had been lazily trailing through my hair froze. ‘It seems your father makes a habit of using people’s misfortunes against them.’

I couldn’t deny that truth. And when Ax used his hold to gently propel my gaze up to his I couldn’t hide it from him.

Whatever he saw in my face made him exhale again. ‘I used to think that was an encompassing Petras family trait,’ he murmured.

‘Used to?’ Did that mean he’d changed his mind? That he wasn’t tarring me with the same brush as my father any more?