Page 101 of The Heir

Why am I so irritable?

Tiffany gasps first as Isobel's freshly jeweled hand comes into view."Izzy, did you two get married?"

Isobel blushes and shrugs one shoulder delicately, leaning her face over to rub her cheek against it in a timid movement that catches me off guard. Where's my little demon, and who is this shy woman?

"We did," I answer for her, placing my hand on Isobel's back possessively.

"Yeah…" Isobel trails off, not bothering to elaborate. The table goes silent in shock, just staring at us as Isobel takes a sip of her drink. I stay quiet as well.

"What on earth? I've heard of whirlwind romances…. butwow."Brittany leans forward and whispers across the table as if we aren't the only ones in the area."Were y'all..."Her eyes flick pointedly between me and Isobel, who stiffens and throws her friend an offended look.

It takes an immense amount of effort on my part to stay silent. Seriously, why is this any of their business? Even if we were, Christopher was stepping out fucking around first.

"No, I'm not a cheater. You know that Tiff."

Everyone falls quiet before her friends all look at me. I take a sip of my whiskey and keep my eyes on my glass, preferring to show restraint. Because these people saw me lose my mind on her ex at that art showing.

They're privy to a piece of me I'd rather not have been visible.

"Love is a funny thing, isn't it?" Brittany's husband Jeremiah speaks up while giving me an appreciative look. "You can be with someone for two yearsand nothing comes of it.No sparks, no fireworks. You just find yourself settling. And suddenly someone comes into your life that sets your world off axis and alters your spirit forever. Ione hundred percentknow what that feels like." He turns, giving his wife a loving look before she flushes and smiles at him.

"I love you so much," Brittany breathes, leaning in to nuzzle her husband before they share a slow lingering kiss.

"I love you too, Briberry," he says.

My eyes sting as I observe their interaction, and my fingers falter from where I was tapping the table restlessly.

My gaze slides to Isobel. She stares at the table with a melancholy expression, and I wonder for the dozenth time if she will ever tell me she loves me. I feel like she does… my very soul knows and recognizes her as mine.

But she won't tell me.

My throat burns with unshed tears at her obvious rejection. Fuck.

Isobel blushes and squirms in her seat before looking over and seeing Tiffany and Jeremiah staring at each other with a little secret expression on their face before she pushes back in her seat back and stands up abruptly.

"Excuse me," she murmurs, turning swiftly.

Looking over I catch Gustavo's eye, who follows her discretely to the ladies room.

"So Hendrix," Alex pulls my attention away from my wife, who I truly hope isn't crying in the bathroom. I fight the urge to go find her and make sure she's okay. However, I'm sure she'd like to have privacy in the restroom, and don't want to come across overbearing, despite our circumstances. "I heard you had a hand in building the soccer stadium downtown. Is that true?"

"Well, yes and no. I had a direct hand in the development, and the design."

"That's cool. I used to play. Not professionally or anything, but I dabbled when I was in college."

I nod. "Never played soccer. Polo was my thing."

Jeremiah leans in and pins me with a look. "Bro, you can ride a horse and swing a mallet without killing yourself? Mad respect!" The tablebreaks off into laughter and I chuckle too, feeling a camaraderie with them that I'm not used to outside of my interactions with Micah.

"I hope this doesn't come across as offensive, but I looked you up, King, and your business is quiteprolific.You've really created quite the empire for yourself!" Tiffany speaks up with a smile, taking a big sip of her drink and giving me excited, wide eyes. "And your work, oh my gosh.Top freaking notch! That building on thirty-fifth street is to die for! I mean, it isgorgeous!What's it like to be able to just,createlike that? I ask Isobel her decorating process and can never get a clear answer. You creatives are so interesting."

I laugh, liking her energy. "It's a shit ton of math." I take a sip of my whiskey, debating on going to find my wife. However, Isobel walks back through the door. Her eyes are slightly red around the lids, betraying she was, in fact, crying. As she settles into her seat I pull her into me. "You okay, baby? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, maybe it's my time of the month coming. I don't know." She refuses to meet my gaze, causing my discomfort to increase. Something's going on with her, something I can't place. I'm not sure how hard I want to push her, though.

My eyes narrow at her words. I don't think that's it.

Why is she lying to me when all I want is the truth?

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