This sick feeling in my chest isn't that. It's something else. I've already decided that because it's the only thing that makes sense. I can't love my enemy's daughter. Granted, I have made concessions. I have been too soft with her at times, and perhaps I have even lost sight of my goal, changing course entirely. But just because I've decided to keep her instead of kill her it doesn't mean anything has really changed. It's simply the sensible thing to do. She will be the mother of my children. The warmth in my bed at night. The body that brings me pleasure. Those are all practical considerations in a marriage. Feelings have nothing to do with it.

Why can't she see that?

There is truth in her prediction, and she should know it. Eli will never be able to prove his innocence to me. He can search through files and attach all the blame to his son as much as he likes. But it doesn't change the facts. He was the one who called me that night. He was the one who asked me, Leandro, and my father to go in their places. If he hadn’t, they would still be alive, and I wouldn’t be… like this.

Frustration wells inside me as I consider how much I need him gone. Ivy will never accept it. The battle lines have been drawn, and I can't win either way. Judge was right. I have to decide what's more important. Having the satisfaction of my revenge, or the warmth of my wife.

A hand on my back startles me from that unpleasant thought, and when I glance over my shoulder, Ivy is behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist and leaning her face against my skin.

"I don't want everything to be a fight," she whispers.

"Then don't make it one," I answer childishly.

She sighs, tightening her grip on me.

"I can't imagine the pain you must have felt," she says. "Losing your father and brother that way. It hurts me just thinking about it, and I'm sorry that nobody has ever apologized to you and meant it, Santiago. That isn't fair and it isn't right. My father should have addressed the situation with you right away, had an open conversation to start. But he let it fester like he always does, and now, we're here."

"What happened is between me and your father—"

"I'm not finished," she cuts me off stubbornly. "Just let me say what I want to say."

When I indulge her with silence, she continues.

"I'm sorry for the pain you've endured. I'm sorry for the incredible loss that's changed your life forever. But I am not sorry for your scars."