Page 23 of Every Promise Broken

“Conrad, you have to tell her.” The words are spoken barely above a whisper.

“Whit…please.” His name comes out strained, my desperation clear as day as it clutches at my chest.

His gaze snaps up to meet mine. “Please what? You have to tell her, Conrad. You cannot keep up this charade for the rest of her life. It’s a lie, and she deserves to know the truth. What are you planning to do when she gets here, and she can clearly see I don’t live at the ranch?”

Whit and I stare at each other a moment. A silent stand-off, if you will. I don’t want to say what I’m about to say, but I have no choice. There is no other choice.

Okay, there is a choice. I could tell her, but I’m not doing that. It’ll break her heart.

“Whit, please,” I repeat.

“Please what, Conrad?! I don’t understand why you keep saying please!”

My heart pounds rapidly behind my ribs. It’s as erratic as I feel. “I need you to pretend that we’re still married,” I say quietly. “At least while she’s here.”

Whit’s jaw drops open as he gapes at me. Complete disbelief plastered on his face. “You have lost your damn mind.”

Oh, I’ve definitely lost my mind, but not for the reasons you think.

“It will only be temporary, Whit. Please.”

“Absolutely not,” he spits out. “You have certifiably lost your ever-loving mind if you think for even one second I would do anything of the sort. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Whit,” I grit out, needing him to just fucking listen. “I will tell her the truth, but I’m not doing it before she comes or while she’s here.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s already mentioned how excited she is to see you!” I bark. “I cannot drop this bomb on her when she’s so excited! I can’t do that to her.”

“Yes, you can,” he growls, standing up again. “And you will. I’m not being your fake husband so you can keep up this lie you’ve buried yourself in. God, this is so typical, Conrad. So fucking typical for you.”

My brows dip. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re incapable of communicating! We got divorced four years ago, Conrad. Four! And in those four years, you’ve lied to her! Because telling her the truth would be too uncomfortable foryou. It would require some emotional intelligence, some compassion. Two things you’re incapable of giving.”

His words hit me right in the gut like a sucker punch. “That is not true.”

“Oh, yes, it is.”

“Whit, I never ask you for anything,” I start, before promptly getting cut offagain.

“As you shouldn’t,” he snaps. “We are no longer married, we aren’t even really friends, so what would you even need to ask me for?”

“This one favor.”

“You act like you’re asking to borrow a cup of flour. You’re asking me to pretend to still be married to you, and what? Live in your house with the both of you? Absolutely not.”

“Please, Whit.” The vein in my neck throbs as my heart beats so fast it feels like I can’t catch my breath. “I will do anything. Please. It will be a few weeks. You’ll get to see her, she’ll be so happy, and then when she goes back home, I’ll tell her.Please.”

His jaw flexes as he watches me, arms folded over his chest. He doesn’t say anything. The silence is deafening.

“Will you at least think about it? Take some time, and really think it over.”

“Conrad, this is absurd.” He says it, but his eyes soften as he looks over at me, expression shifting. Something that has the tension in my shoulders easing a bit.

“I’m aware.”

Sighing heavily, he mutters, “I will think about it, but I’m not making any promises. I don’t like this.”

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