Page 127 of On The Rocks

Tears filled her eyes, and she bowed her head. Her fingers came up to swipe at her face again, and my heart curled into itself when she whispered. “I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“We’re real,” I pleaded. “I’m so fucking sorry. I lied initially because I worried that if you knew about the debt, you wouldn’t go through with the wedding, but we were real the second I picked you up from the floor in Patrick’s hallway. It took one look, baby, and my heart knew I was gonna marry you whatever happened. It wasn’t because of a debt; it was all you.”

“I asked you,” she cried. “I said, is there anything else you need to tell me, and you said no. You lied to my face.”

“I’ve never viewed our marriage as a business deal,” I protested. “When you asked me that, the truth didn’t even come to mind. It hasn’t been that for me since we left New York—even before then. I know what I said to you in the car after the wedding, baby, but I was an idiot, remember? This has never been about the money or the bar. I’ll sign the Shamrock over to Patrick now if it’s a choice between that and you.”

“You won’t be signing anything over,” she said flatly. “Patrick’s writing the debt off. My dowry just got increased to three hundred thousand dollars.”

“The debt’s gone,” Paddy declared. “Forget it.”

“That’s big of you,” I muttered. “Did Da really owe you, or was it something you and him cooked up between ya?”

“The marriage between you two was agreed years ago,” Patrick admitted. “More recently, me and Lorcan decided you both needed a push. It was your da’s idea—he knew he was dying and wanted you settled, Callum, but I’ll hold my hands up. I was more than happy to go along with it.”

“You sold me, and you manipulated Callum,” Maeve retorted. “All you’ve done is hurt us.” Her stare sliced back to me. “I want this marriage annulled.”

The ache in my chest made me flinch. “No. You promised me you wouldn’t run. You said you’d stay and fight.”

“And you said you’d never lie to me again.” A solitary tear rolled down her cheek. “It looks like we’ll both be disappointed.”

My chest went tight, and something rotten and acidic settled inside my gut. “I don’t know how to let you go, Maeve,” I rasped.

More tears welled in my wife’s beautiful cosmic eyes, and I watched her expression crumble. Her hands came up, and she buried her face in them and sobbed so hard her shoulders shook with it.

I don’t remember moving, but suddenly, I was there, holding her close and burying my face in her hair, inhaling her soft, floral scent into my lungs. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”

Standing there, holding my wife while she quietly wept, broke something inside me.

When it came to Maeve, my protective instincts were off the charts. Seeing her in so much pain was shitty enough, but to know it was because of something I did destroyed me. My wife had a beauty within that couldn’t be rivaled. She was quick to laugh and love, and it was my job to nurture that. But I hadn’t. Instead, I’d taken Maeve and her capacity to love for granted.

I was such an asshole.

She hiccoughed, swiped at her face again, and took a step back while shrugging me off. “I-I wanna go home,” she mumbled, looking up at me with a tear-streaked face.

A ray of hope shone inside my chest because her request meant she wasn’t gonna leave my ass, at least not yet. “I can take you home,” I offered.

She drew in a shaky, tear-filled breath. “I need to tell Trist?—”

“You go to the bathroom. Wash your face and catch your breath. I’ll take care of everything.”

Maeve nodded as if she was in a daze, turned, and headed from the room.

I scraped a hand down my face, wondering how the fuck I was gonna remove that lost, vacant look from my wife’s eyes and replace it with the zest for life that usually shone from them.

She looked wrecked.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’d married my girl, my best friend. Yesterday, we were happy; we’d opened our bar, and it was a roaring success. Last night, I’d made love to her, and today, we were supposed to celebrate and spend time together as a couple on the brink of getting everything we ever wanted. We were meant to have babies and live happily ever after.

My skin tightened, the itch clawing at it suddenly unbearable.

Jesus. How could I be on the brink of losing her?

Of losing everything?

“I’ll deal with Shannon,” Patrick rasped, fishing his cell from his pocket and tapping on it. “I’ll get her picked up and sent back to New York. She won’t get to Maeve again.”

“It’s too late,” I replied flatly, my eyes glued on the door my wife had just exited. “The damage is done. We did this to her. Shannon was just the messenger.”

---