He turned away from Emmeline when she approached, and even felt better when she backed away slightly. No, he did not want her close, for her words alone pierced him enough, there was no need for her close proximity as well. Crossing his arms over his chest, Caradoc felt the twisting in his heart deepen.
For the past five years he had spent his life on borrowed time, which had always been a fact that had never quite sat well in his stomach at the end of the day. It hadn't been... he had meant to die that cold night in January, but for reasons out of his control... it had effected him, but not in the way that seeing Therese had. It had reminded him, enlightened him to the destruction that had been his choices in England.
"Nothing," he lied easily. He kept his head down, still thinking... still contemplating... and suddenly, Caradoc felt tired. He felt very tired with this parade, tired with his thoughts, and tired with feeling like he must come up with a viable excuse to keep Emmeline tempered. If she wanted to know, then she could. But he would not fold to her displeasure over it, and would not attempt to subdue a brewing battle because of it.
"Therese Bonaccord," Caradoc murmured abruptly. "She was here, I ran into her in the park." His brow contorted for a moment, before the words began to slip from his lips effortlessly.
"She told me about how her psychotic auror ex-boyfriend continued to harass her, even all these years after my and Evan's death. So I erased her memory of our talk, went to France, and killed him."
Caradoc paused for a moment, and then added, "He wrote a book about me. I did not want her suffering any more on my account."
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