Page 36 of My Ruthless Husband

My finger hovers over the screen, contemplating my next move. For someone as shy as I was, this was a leap into the unknown, a huge step toward a realm I had only ever dared to dream about. Every sleepless night, every fruitless attempt of finding him has led to this moment.

I shake my head. Why am I so nervous? I didn’t think twice before chasing him two days ago. I just have to type out a text and hit send. It’s not like he’ll jump out of the small screen of my phone and eat me alive. My cheeks heat when I find that possibility appealing.

Giggling, I cover myself with the sheet to hide my burning face. After spending several minutes giggling and kicking my feet on the plush bed foolishly, I gather myself.

Taking a deep breath, I pick up my phone again.

“It’s now or never.” I whisper to myself and begin typing with my slightly trembling fingers. Then press send.

Me: Hey there! This is River Gibson.

I briefly wonder whether I should add about our encounter in the hotel lobby for reference. There’s a possibility he’d forgotten about me. The unpleasant thought clenches my heart. But I shake it away. He’s a busy man. It’s okay if he forgot about me. I can remind him.

Me: Remember me? Your new friend. We met at the Four Seasons Hotel two days ago.

As seconds tick by, doubts and insecurities begin to claw at the edges of my mind, overshadowing the spark of hope that had ignited within me. My fingers clutch the phone as if physically holding my sanity.

It’s noon there. He might be in a meeting. That reminds me I still don’t know much about my mystery man apart from his name. I make a mental note of googling him later.

I gaze at the time on the phone screen. Ten minutes passed.

The anticipation is killing me. With each passing moment, the knot in my stomach coils tight. Did I sound too casual? Too eager?

Maybe he’s just busy.

I keep checking my phone, hoping to see his name pop up. It’s like time has slowed down.

I pace the room, staring at the phone on the bed while biting my thumbnail.

I wish I could distract myself but all I can think about is his response. It’s driving me crazy. I just hope he texts me soon. But what if he doesn’t? What if—

Ping!

My heart skips a beat as the screen of my phone illuminates. I lunge to pick up the phone and lose my footing.

Wincing, I heave myself up and over the bed. Swallowing hard, I tuck my curls and lift it. I open the message.

Damian: I remember.

My heart flutters as I read it. I don’t let the clipped response dampen my excitement. One can never understand the tone or feeling behind the text anyway. Maybe he is confused like I was and sent me the two-word text. Did his curt acknowledgement mask hidden feelings? Or he is hesitating to express more because of our age difference. Or is he simply being polite?

I flop down on the bed. My thoughts race, analyzing every possible interpretation.

I’m still thinking when my phone pings again.

I jackknife into sitting position and gasp when I find another message from him.

Damian: Are you enjoying your holidays?

I blink once. Then twice before letting out a loud squeal of excitement. Pushing to my feet on the bed, I begin dancing and singing, my curls flying.

The main door to my suite opens suddenly before Derek and Dad come barging in my room, making me gasp.

“Sweet pea?” His eyebrows are pulled together in concern.

“Dad! what are you doing here?” I squeak, swiping my curls back from my face and climbing off the bed.

“We heard some commotion and thought you might be hurt.” Dad says as he settles on the bed beside me. He signals Derek to leave before asking, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

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