Page 56 of The Rancher's Second-Choice Wife

Poppy started to cry in the silence that followed.

“Tell me you get it now,” she heard Valerian say in a voice that painted a picture of a man who was only existing without living. “Why I don’t deserve to ask for her forgiveness. And why all I can do is make sure she’s got the damn best life possible without me.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

I KNOW, GOD, Valerian thought as he took one of the last available seats at the back. And believe me, You’re not the only one who’s fuc—sorry about that. This is all still new to me. It’s just been three consecutive weeks. And counting. Hopefully.

He had come up with a bucket list of sorts last month. He had thought hard about all the things that his ex-wife would deserve in her next husband.

Things like...someone who didn’t swear, since she didn’t swear at all.

And then he had made a promise to be all of those things, on the one-in-a-million chance that God would allow him another shot with her.

God Himself was part of the list, and if Valerian were being honest?

The Big Guy in Heaven was still a mystery to Valerian, but he was slowly working on that, one Sunday service at a time.

Thoughts of Poppy haunted Valerian for the rest of the day. And it was the same the day after that. And so forth. It didn’t matter if he was working in his office or traveling to Risto. Didn’t matter if he was working out at home or on a Zoom call with the few stockholders and board members he still had in his corner.

She just wasn’t his greatest obsession now. She was also the greatest love of his life, and Valerian knew it would stay that way for the rest of his days.

****

PAPARAZZI CROWDED AROUND Valerian as soon as he stepped out of his limousine.

Is that your last car, dude? Is it mortgaged?

Valerian’s expression remained stoic as he started walking towards the airport’s entrance doors.

Are you flying economy? Or you still splurge on business class because your ego can’t stand anything less?

Valerian didn’t even allow himself to think anything until he had boarded.

Good job, Rossfield.

He had actually managed to follow the good pastor’s advice. One of the paps had shoved a camera to his face, but because he had been slow to fucking anger, he had been able to resist the urge to smash the other guy’s face with his fist.

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