Chapter 133: Diogo

"Can I talk to you?"
Her voice is my version of heaven after starving for weeks for even a single word. I want to leap up and grab her, hold her against me and beg her to forgive me. I still don't regret my action against the traitor, Xavier Gunther, but I do regret that my violence against him and the lie I told her has caused her to lose faith in me.
I look up from where I sit on a bench, my hands buried deep in the moist soil of our new greenhouse garden. Instead of the individual pots I'd been planting before, I'm now modeling my mini greenhouse after the large city ones with long flat wooden containers to plant the beds in.
"Yes, of course you can talk to me." I don't point out that I've been waiting weeks for her to break down and start talking again. I would hardly deny her now.
She crosses her arms defensively over her chest, pressing the white fabric of her shirt against her fuller breasts and outlining her pert pink nipples. My mouth waters at the movement. I want nothing more than to reacquaint myself with her body. To worship and devour her until she screams in satisfaction. She doesn't look happy to be talking to me, but I don't care. I'll take what I can get.
"Have you considered knocking down a section of the wall and extending it around Old Tucson?" she says bluntly, staring at the wall behind me.
"I... hadn't," I say, lifting my hands from the dirt and standing.
The solution seems so simple, I don't know why I didn't think of it before. Actually, I do know why. Because the preservation of lives beyond my own Sanctuary is not a priority. Stabilizing and managing my own city is my only job. However, the influx of refugees and Primitives has caused some dangerous problems for us. Not least of which is the unauthorized use of our water resources for the refugee encampment. I've begun to worry about the growing likelihood of contamination.
"Why would we do that?" I ask just as bluntly. I want to hear her argument, her voice raised in passionate plea, before I give her my decision.
She looks at me shrewdly, her grey eyes calculating. I wonder which argument she'll go with; the humanitarian angle or appeal to the Warlord's logic.
"If you take in 10,000 refugees with the knowledge and power of the combined Sanctuaries of the east, then you will become one of the most powerful Warlord's on this continent. You will have more sway over resources and trade. You'll be in a more effective position when it comes to dealing with other Sanctuaries." She stops for a moment as though searching for another argument to sway me. She doesn't realize, I'm already swayed by her alone. Her ability to come up with an argument that she thinks will appeal to me is both cute and powerful. She will be my top negotiator when she takes her place as council to the Warlord.
"Is that all?" I prod her.
She glares at me and paces away. "No, not even remotely." Then she launches into another argument. "There are countless reasons to consider this proposal. Most of the people out there in Old Tucson represent the strongest survivors of their Sanctuaries. They were strong enough to flee and to stand their ground and fight. They are determined to survive. These are the people we need in our Sanctuary making it stronger."
I'm impressed with her argument and am about to say so when she switches gears, unable to help herself. "And Diogo," she looks at me, all hostility falling away for the moment. "We can't just leave them to die. I know that rebuilding a section of the wall is a huge, months long project, but it's the best idea we have. If it doesn't work, we could lose everything. Not just the refugees outside the wall, but eventually our Sanctuary if the Primitives turn their collective masses toward us. We can't let that happen."
I absorb her words with a swell of pride at her compassion and logical thinking. She's beautiful no matter what she's doing, but when she's on a mission, determined to better the lives of everyone around her, she's fucking glorious. An unstoppable angel.
"I agree," I tell her quietly. And for the first time since Stryker took her, she smiles at me.
I can't help myself, drawn to the warmth in her smile and her eyes I step toward her, reaching out. She steps quickly back, a shutter falling over her expression.
"I'm not ready yet," she says quietly. Her words, her body language, everything about her is a warning to back off.
"Not ready to forgive me," I say, trying to keep the irritation from my voice. I sigh heavily and run a hand through my hair forgetting for the moment that it's covered in dirt. "At least keep talking to me. Let me explain why I did it."
"No. I'm not ready yet." She shakes her head and backs further away. "I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you, but maybe, in time, I'll stop being this angry."
"You're condemning me without a trial, Taran. Do you think that's fair of you?"
She swings her gaze up, showing me the full force of her anger and hurt. "You mean the Judge, the man that sentenced me to death?" she asks scathingly. "At least I got some kind of trial, what did Xavier get? A knife to the heart? A shot to the head?" I suppress a flinch at her accuracy as she keeps shouting her anger. "Even your farce of a legal system would've been better than nothing. No, you don't get to tell me what you think is fair."
I've spent weeks swallowing my own anger, accepting the full force of her blame, but this blind hatred, this prolonged grief over a man that she didn't even love is unacceptable. I'd allowed her to grieve for him once, she won't be allowed to grieve for him twice. I'm done with it.
I stalk toward her, forcing her to back up until she's touching the door leading to the floor below. "Are you pissed that Xavier didn't get a fair trial, or are you mad because I killed him myself? Are you having trouble with the idea that these hands that give you such pleasure are the same ones that disposed of your ex-lover?" The words are cruel, but as I watch her flinch and dart her gaze away, I realize I've touched on the core of her fury. She's angry with herself for loving a man capable of murder, a man capable of loving her back while simultaneously lying and withholding information. "You're angry about the lie, about what you think I did to you. Not what happened to Gunther."
I reach for her, taking her shoulders in a hard grip to stop her from running away from this truth. I lower my head so I can look her in the eye. "Do you think there's any chance he would've lived after what he did?"
She swallows hard and shakes her head. "No, of course not."
"He was a traitor, Taran, his execution was always going to be inevitable."
She chokes a little as she holds back tears. She lifts anguished eyes to mine. "It didn't have to be in a dark cell, surrounded by enemies. He was a human, he deserved human comfort before the end. You stripped him of his dignity, his right to a fair trial and his right to be executed in front of his people. Then you stripped him of his life."
"Yes, I did," I acknowledge her words. "I also deprived him of his ability to create a martyr. Our city was divided, it was on the brink of a civil war that would've destabilized everything and weakened us just in time for the Primitives to show up at our doorstep. I do not regret my decision, and if I could go back and do it again, I would."
She reacts explosively, her anger bursting out of her as she's forced to listen to the words she doesn't want to hear. She slams her fists into my chest and shoves as hard as she can. Of course, I don't move. Her strength isn't enough to cause me any harm. But her intent does. The idea that I've driven her to physical violence doesn't sit well, so I step back of my own volition, giving her some space.
"You lied to me!" she shouts.
"To save you pain," I shout back, grabbing her arms and giving her a small shake. "You didn't need to know that I was the one who killed him."
She shakes her head. "You told me you didn't lie, and I believed you. I've believed everything you said to me."
My hands tighten on her arms. "I never lied before you came along but saving you the pain of knowing I shoved a knife in your ex-lover's heart was worth a lie. The outcome was still the same, he was dead and you were alive and unharmed."
"Don't you dare blame me for your serious lack of morals!" She shoves at me again and this time I release her. I don't want to hurt her and the urge to slap her or shake some sense into her is starting to overwhelm my good sense. I don't want to hurt Taran, but I do want my wife back.
"I wouldn't change my actions," I tell her coolly. "Given the chance I would do it all over again, only I'd make sure you never found out. Do you know why? Because saving you pain will always be worth it to me. No matter how I get to that result, no matter how much of myself I have to sacrifice, your happiness will always come first."
She's breathing heavily, her shoulders heaving. The tears that she'd been holding back trickle down her cheeks. She looks at me with such hurt that it's impossible for some of my own anger not to drain away. She swipes at the tears with her sleeve and stares past me, over the rooftop out over the city. "Diogo... I can't do this. You lied to me and you killed someone I cared about. I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you."
She turns away and reaches for the door intent on heading back down to our son. I've noticed that she cuddles him when she's feeling lonely, lost and sad, which has been a lot lately. I catch the edge of the door before she can disappear, calling out to her. She turns on the steps, her hand hovering over the railing, her tear-stained face tilted up to me.
"You may not have a choice, because I'm done living in a battle zone for a marriage. You can either forgive me and find a way to be happy in this marriage, or you will suffer the consequences of your anger. Because whichever path you choose, I'm done waiting, you will resume your role as my wife."