Page 447 of The Christmas Wife

One week. I haven’t seen him for a week. He's always gone when I wake up in the mornings and comes home much later than me in the evenings. At least, I think he does, because I never hear his footsteps go past the doorway of my room, no matter how late I stay up reading.

I moved out of my role as his assistant to work on setting up the childcare facilities on the second floor of the office building. I threw myself into getting it up and running. Things went smoothly, not least, because of the generous budget he allocated for the project. Turned out, he’d already organized the permits, as well as the space needed to set up the nursery.

I wanted to refuse to lead on the project, but the childcare facilities will benefit everyone, and the children deserve only the best. So, I swallowed my pride and proceeded with my plan.

Today was the first day we opened, and already, we're full, and with a waiting list. We had to turn away parents from the buildings nearby, with regret. The facilities are only forthe employees of the Davenport group of companies. It's a crying shame that more companies didn’t invest in such services for their staff. It only increases productivity, as many studies have proven, but big corporations still hesitate to invest in something so essential. Not Ed, apparently. I suppose I have our interactions to thank for that. If, because of me, children can benefit, then I almost didn’t mind the fact that he was spying on me before we formally met. Almost.

"I think you should leave now." I cross my arms about my waist.

He nods, then stalks toward the door, pausing only to retrieve my bag from the floor and place it on the bed. He reaches the exit, when I call out, "Did you see me… take care of myself when you had cameras in my room in my father’s house?"

He pauses, then nods.

Heat flushes my cheeks. That beat between my legs, which always flares to life when he’s around, amplifies. "How could you do that?" I burst out.

"How could I not?" He turns to face me. "I wanted you. I knew I shouldn’t; knew I was all wrong for you, but I couldn’t let go of you."

"So you trapped me in this marriage?"

He curls his fingers into fists at his sides. "I wish I could say I'm sorry for influencing events so you find yourself here, but?—"

"You’re not?"

"How can I be, when you’re more important to me than life itself."

"What you are is obsessed with me," I cry.

"I’d rather be obsessed with you than anyone else. I’d rather devote my life to taking care of you. All I want is to see you happy."

"So you’d release me from this marriage if that’s what made me happy?"

He flinches, his jaw tenses, and he seems to force himself to unclench his fingers. He straightens his shoulders. "Is that what you want?"

I run my fingers through my hair. Tiredness grips me. My feet seem to wobble, and I sit down on the bed. "I don’t know what I want."

He takes a step toward me, and I throw up my hand. "Actually, I do know what I want, for now. I need you to leave me alone."

"Have you eaten?"

"I don’t want your sympathy. I don’t want you to cook for me. I don’t…want to see you, is all."

"Have you eaten yet?"

"Didn’t you hear what I said," I snap.

He holds up his hands. "I heard you." He turns and leaves, his shoulders slumped. The door snicks shut behind him. And of course, I miss him. Which makes no sense. After how he treated me, how he got me to marry him under false pretexts, I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t miss him. I shouldn’t go to sleep every night wanting to wake up next to him.

I'm sure it’s because he’s the first man I’ve slept with. The first man to bring me to orgasm, to show me it could be even better than my smutty books made it out to be. And for a while there, in that lighthouse, with the snowstorm raging around us, I was sure he was 'the one.' I thought I’d get my happily ever after. I didn’t realize I’d fallen for someone whose heart is morally grey, and whose past holds secrets I’ll never be privy to.

I climb into bed and curl up on my side. I should hate him. I do hate him… I think. But I also miss him. And there’s nothing keeping me here. I could leave, go to one of my friend’s places. But wouldn’t that be running? Would that resolve anything? Staying under his roof is a constant reminder of him, of how it could be with him. But leaving… Images of him and our timetogether would only haunt me more. No, I need to weather this out the way I’ve done the storms in the past. On my own. Me, myself, and I. I smile. That’s how I’ve always consoled myself.I have myself.And him.Not him. Don’t think of him.I close my eyes and drift off until a knock on the door awakens me. I sit up and realize it’s dark outside. I reach for my bag and pull out my phone. I’ve been asleep for an hour. I also have missed messages.

Summer: Haven’t heard from you since you got back. Are you ok?

Gio: Bitch, how was the honeymoon? Why no word from you?

Penny: Forgotten us already?

I haven’t been in touch with any of them because… What am I going to say? I’m not used to having friends, let alone ones I confide in, and I want to tell them everything but… Not yet. How can I, when I don’t know what to say? I drop my phone on the bed, head to the door and open it.