Page 82 of A Temporary Forever

She swirls around and my heart rate spikes, pulsing on high alert. Dark circles shadow her eyes, her face bare of makeup.

She doesn’t really acknowledge me, her gaze lifting above my shoulder toward the elevator.

“Good morning,” the concierge calls out.

“You got a delivery.” I turn slightly, so she has a better view of the enormous bouquet of red roses.

Shit, I might have overdone it. The concierge wobbles as he puts the large vase on the ground and turns to retrieve my other gift from the elevator.

“I haven’t ordered anything,” she scoffs.

“I did the ordering.” I saunter over to her. “A gift.”

She glares at me, her face set in a hostile facade.

When neither of us moves, the concierge clears his throat. “That’ll be all, Mr. van den Linden.”

“Right.” I reluctantly leave her to cross the living room toward him. “Thank you.” I give him a fifty-dollar bill and take the box from him.

He departs. Finally.

Though judging by Celeste’s stormy expression, maybe I need a human buffer. When I look back, she’s standing in the entrance to the kitchen, leaning where I was before.

Her green eyes gleam with something I can’t quite understand, but it sends chills down my spine. She looks like the version of her from before we got married. When she hated me. When she had walls up all around.

Okay, time to grow up and own the shit. I approach her, my gaze not leaving hers. There’s a challenge in hers, and I hope she can see the determination in mine.

“I think I caused some damage yesterday.” I hand her the box.

Her eyes travel from my face to the box, but shedoesn’t move, cradling her coffee. Okay, if I thought she might not be pissed, I now know she certainly didn’t appreciate me leaving her behind last night.

A part of me recognizes that explaining why I did what I did would be the right thing to do here. But I’m not ready for that.Coward.

In the tense moments that follow, when she simply stares at the box in my hands, I can practically hear my heart beating in my chest.

I have no experience with groveling, but even without prior firsthand knowledge, it’s obvious I’m not succeeding.

“Come on, open it.” I try to sound casual.

A war brews behind her eyes, but then she sighs. A heavy, loaded sigh, like I’m an annoying sibling she doesn’t want to deal with.

She puts her mug on the breakfast bar behind her and finally takes the box from me. Placing it beside her coffee, she opens the lid gingerly, like I might’ve laced it with poison.

Under the tissue paper, she finds thirty pairs of delicate panties.

She cocks her eyebrow. “I’m no longer getting the company?” She purses her lips, no muscle on her face suggesting she’s joking.

I swallow. Fuck, I’m really not good at this.

“I wanted to make you happy.” Christ, I need to stop talking if this is the shit that comes out.

She snorts. “Flowers and new underwear? Having a guilty conscience, pretty boy?”

The ice in her voice could fill all the slushy machines around the city.

“I’m sorry I left you alone last night.” I step closer, but she folds her arms across her chest.

“Please, Caleb, you have no obligation to babysit me. I hope you had a nicemeeting.”

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