Page 100 of The Wrong Husband
Before I can reach for it, he bends down, picks it up, and— Shit. He glances at the screen before handing it back to me. I take it from him, fingers stiff. The message from Drew is still there.
A flush creeps up my neck. Did he see it? Did he read enough to know? Maybe, this is it—the moment the secret cracks open and I finally get to tell him. Maybe, I don’t have to hide anymore.
But when I glance at him, he’s already looking down at his own phone. Calm. Blank-faced. Like nothing happened.
No reaction. No sign he noticed anything. Guess he didn’t see it. Or if he did, he’s not letting on. Either way, the moment passes.
The band around my chest cinches tighter. There’s no easy way out of this, is there? God, I hate that I’m still holding something back from him. And worse—how much that makes me hate myself.
I slip the phone back in my bag, which I’ve placed in the space between my seat and the window.
The pilot’s voice comes on over the loudspeaker. "Sorry folks. That was a brief patch of bad weather. But we’re through it now. The rest of the journey should be smooth."
"Hey, you look serious." Connor touches my shoulder.
I startle out of the reverie I’d fallen into and turn to him. "Just feeling apprehensive." I try to smile, but my lips feel frozen. "My stress hormones are running a marathon, I’m afraid."
His lip quirks slightly, enough to reveal that slight dent in his cheek, which instantly puts me a little more at ease.
“Having second thoughts?” he murmurs, weaving his fingers through mine. “Say the word, and I’ll turn the jet around. We don’t have to go to Gibraltar today. We’ll wait until you’re ready.”
“You’d really do that?” I whisper, stunned.
“Of course.” There’s no hesitation on his features. Just steady, quiet certainty.
“But…what about the officials? The appointments you’ve arranged?” I falter, clinging to the excuse even as I test him.
He raises a shoulder, the arrogance on his face the hallmark of someone used to being obeyed. "It’s their job."
I lock my fingers in my lap. "You’d lose the money involved in chartering the flight and?—"
"The plane belongs to the Davenports.”
I open my mouth, but he shakes his head. "And before you bring it up, we donate to environmental charities to offset ourcarbon footprint, and the jet is used only in times of emergency, which is what this is."
"Oh.”
He called this an emergency.I told him I wanted to elope—and he chartered a jet. Scheduled officials. Pulled strings I don’t even understand, all at what must be a staggering cost to him.
And now… He’d scrap it all in a heartbeat. Just because I looked uncertain.
The weight of that hits me like a punch to the chest.
He’s not just doing this for show. He’s doing it for me. And I’m completely, utterly undone.
He leans in then and peers into my eyes, so all I can see is the sea of frozen blue, the silver sparks in them like flares have been set off from deep within. The dark pupils, a black layered with resolve.
"You come first. Your needs take precedence. I want you to be comfortable with what we're doing. I want you to feel you have the agency to stop it. We will not do anything that makes you feel helpless. You’re my wife-to-be. My partner-to-be. The one I chose. You have the power in this relationship. You hold the claim on me. The reign over my life. The chokehold on my senses. Never forget that."
My brain cells feel like they are fried. He’s committed to this relationship.While I? I’m still afraid he'll reject me if I share my past with him. I’m a terrible person. I’m more flawed than I realized. But maybe I can make up for my mistakes by showing him that I, too, care…in my own way. Even if I’m unable to profess it in words?
"You have no idea how much what you said means to me."
He tilts his head.
"In fact, I’m going toshow youhow much it means to me." I unhook my seat belt, glad that the carpet is thick enough to cushion the impact as I slide to my knees in front of him.
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