His Inheritance

Love Under Will

You were barely keeping a grip on your nerves, even with the brandy you'd been sipping for a while, when Steve opened the door to his study and found you there in his chair, behind his desk. Your husband seemed surprised but quickly his expression shifted to one of indulgence.

That wasn't what you were in the mood for.

"Hey, sweetheart," he told you, pulling off his suit coat and dropping it into one of the chairs on the other side of the desk as he made his way to the minibar a few feet from you. Pouring himself a glass of bourbon, he walked back around to take a seat in the other chair across from you.

He looked tired. You remember Nat and Yelena talking about something going on behind the scenes with his "business." Why did you never hear about any of it from him? Why did you only catch bits and pieces in passing from his people?

"How was your day?" he asked, those sharp blue eyes on you as he took a drink.

You glared at him, taking a drink. It burned when it reached your stomach and you realized you hadn't eaten since breakfast hours ago. Probably not the best idea.

When you didn't say anything, Steve's gaze turned speculative. "I know you're upset about being restricted to the house," he said carefully. "It's for your safety. But it's not forever."

You snorted.

"The snow is melting outside," you told him. "I don't see why I can't take a walk in my own backyard, Steve. It's not as if I'll be alone."

Steve didn't seem surprised at your surly answer. He blew out an exhale, took another drink.

"You're right, you won't," he assured you. "But not right now."

"Why not right now?" you wanted to know. Authentic frustration at your circumstances made it feel like less of a ruse.

"It's dark outside," he pointed out, a little grin playing about his lips.

You shook your head. "I need to get outside."

Steve's expression sobered. Still, it felt a lot like he thought he was dealing with a petulant child and that pissed you off.

"You will," he assured you, taking another drink. "In time. Right now, I need to know you're safe. There's a lot going on and just... for my sanity, I just need to know."

You huffed at that. "I haven't left this house since I went with Nat to the hospital," you reminded him. "The walls are closing in on me, Steve. Something's got to give."

"And that was incredibly dangerous," he told you seriously. "I don't blame you for that. But a lot could have happened to you and my sister that day. You just don't realize."

"No, I don't," you told him. "Because you don't tell me anything. I don't know what happened to Clint. I can guess but I don't know for certain. I don't know who is a threat to me or why."

"That's—"

"Don't give me the same shit about needing me to trust you," you cut him off. You knew what he was going to say. He recited it every day like a mantra. "Give me a reason why I should."

His brows rose at that. You'd caught him off guard and you could almost hear his mind scramble to think of something to say. It only took him a beat.

"Look, this wasn't how I planned for our marriage to begin," his tone was sympathetic. "I realize how hard it must have been on you all those years, kept hidden in that house on the outskirts of the city. Sure, you didn't lack for anything. But there were a lot of experiences you didn't get to have."

To have him – anyone – say that to you so frankly stopped you. To have someone recognize the lonely experience you'd lived since you were a baby. It was almost too much to deal with considering you were still restricted as he called it, married to him when it wasn't your choice, and trying to navigate a world you didn't understand and were being sheltered from. Tears stung the backs of your eyes as you considered his words.