Page 101 of The Unwanted Wife

"And how would you have reacted to that?"

I think about it, and heat steals over my cheeks. "Not well. I’d have thought he was joking. Or he was taking pity on me for having walked out on me after I kissed him. I’d tried my best to forget him all these years."

"So, how do you feel about what he’s done now?"

"It still feels like he could have been more open about it. He told me he pressured the doctor until he was willing to discuss my case."

"He did?" She frowns.

"And then, many nights, he parked outside my window and watched over me for the last year."

"That’s both persistent, and a little unnerving."

"He’s clearly skillful about it, because I never spotted him. But it also means, when he walked into my bakery and asked me to marry him, he knew about my situation with the bakery. And with Hugo."

Her eyes grow big. "Wow, okay. That’s a lot."

"Yeah. But you know what’s even more messed up?"

"You love him?"

"Damn him, but I do. And he’s my husband. I can’t think of living my life without him. Is that weird?"

She places her cup on the table, then leans over to place her hand on mine. "It’s not weird. Anyone has only to see the two of you in a room to realize there’s a connection between both of you. Somehow, you fit."

"If that’s meant to make me feel better?—"

"It’s what I see. Doesn’t mean you have to condone what he did. And not even because he thought it was in your best interests to do so."

53

Nathan

"I’ll have the same." Quentin slides onto the barstool next to mine. I’m at the 7A Club because I couldn’t bear to be home without her. And I didn’t want to end up at her doorstep just twenty-four hours after she asked for time to think things through. Also, I’m not going to park my car outside her place and watch her, the way I’ve done so many nights over the past year.

I promised her I’d let her be. I promised myself I’d let her come to me. And I have to stick to that. No matter, if it’s turning my guts inside out and making me feel like my skin is being peeled off of me. So, after my meetings today, I find myself at the 7A Club because, where else does a man go on a night when his wife is not home?

The bartender pours out a glass of sparkling water and slides it over to him. He looks at it with distaste. "On second thought, get me a Macallan." He pushes the glass of fizzy water in my direction. "I forgot you don’t drink. Here, knock yourself out."

"I already did." I push aside my empty glass, pick up the one he passed me, and take a sip.

"Do I detect a note of self-pity?"

"And more." I stare into my glass of water. If there were an occasion I could do with a drink, it’s now. But there’s no way I’m going down that path again. Instead, I take another sip of the water. “She hates me. I made sure she hates me. I’m a self-sabotaging prick and I brought this upon myself."

He whistles, then snatches up the tumbler of whiskey the bartender placed in front of him. He tosses it back, then slaps it back on the wood. "Needed that. Can’t listen to confessions without alcohol in my veins." He turns to me. "Now, tell Uncle Quentin everything."

I snort. "You’re what, seven years older than me?"

"Doesn’t change the fact I’m your uncle."

"What-fucking-ever." I throw back the rest of the water, then signal to the guy behind the bar to top me up.

"Don’t overdo it, eh?" He smirks.

I half laugh, then… What the hell? It’s not like I have anyone else to talk to. Ben’s gone. And regardless of what my wife says, regardless of the Marines absolving me of all wrongdoing; yes, there was an enquiry into my actions, before they decided to reward me with a medal. Another reason I lost faith in them. How could you deem my actions wrong one day, then, just because a panel of people find you did nothing wrong, decide to praise you for the same? It makes no sense. But then, little in the world does—except her. And I couldn’t look her in the eye after she regained consciousness. I watched her from afar, and convinced myself she was better off without me. I couldn’t forget the shock and anger in her eyes when she saw me and then, the devastation when she realized what I was about to say. She wasn’t able to hear it from me. She didn’t want it to be her reality. It’s why she ran out of the apartment. And I wasn’t able to stop her. I wasn’t able to get to her in time.

Once again, I’d failed her. And this, despite promising Ben I’d look after her. Then, I took advantage of her situation and coerced her into marrying me. Nothing makes what I did right. I can’t justify it. I’m in the wrong, period. I need to pay for it.

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