Page 86 of The Wrong Husband
I glance sideways at him as we drive back from the atelier. Connor wanted to pay for the dress, but I told him I wanted to do it. He didn’t protest. Maybe, it was because of the conversation we had about my independence?
I tell myself I’m relieved Connor’s okay with me keeping my place. That he didn’t protest. Didn’t push. But the truth is that a part of me wishes he had.
Wishes he insisted I don’t need it anymore. That I belong with him now—fully, completely. That there's no need for a fallback plan.
Maybe I wanted him to stake a claim. To tell me I'm his, and I don’t need a place of my own because I belong with him.
Instead, he nodded, said he understood—and that hurt more than I expected.
And yet— That very calmness, that quiet confidence, tells me this man isn’t trying to control me. He respects my need for independence.
And that dissolves the last of my doubts about this marriage.
Yes, we met under the strangest of circumstances. Yes, he crossed lines watching me from afar. But the fact that he’s secure enough to let me keep my place, the way he lets me choose. It makes me see him differently.
It makes me want to tell him the real reason behind my ask. That it’s where Drew lives. He’ll be gone without the month, so it’s only fair to give him that time to find another place.
Besides, I'm mostly at the hospital. With our schedules, I won’t be home at the same time as him. It’s not as if I'm trying to punish him for falling in love with me. That's just cruel.
But I can’t tell Connor that; it would piss him off. And then, the fact that I never mentioned Drew to him, at all. But then, he never asked about my past, either, so it’s only lying by omission, really… Which isn't too bad.Is it?
Then again, he hasn’t volunteered information about his past, either.
I never should have agreed to Drew moving in with me. I knew I wasn’t in love with him… But also, I didn’t have a concrete reason to say no.
I allowed myself to be swept up in the moment. And when we started drifting apart, I didn’t have the courage to ask him to leave.
I knew, by then, that I didn’t really love him. But I didn’t have the heart to tell him that.
I didn’t want to hurt Drew. So, I kept putting off having the conversation with him, even though we’d started leading separate lives while we lived under the same roof. And by the time I broached the topic with Drew, it was too late.
Connor eases the car into the parking bay next to a converted warehouse. I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize we’d reached our destination.
I look around. “Where are we?”
“Shoreditch.” He mentions the name of a very expensive, artsy and chaotic area of London which is a hotspot for creatives and entrepreneurs. It’s gritty, edgy, and the street-art-meets-serious-money vibe suits him.
He gets out of the car, then walks around and opens the door for me. When I step out, he grabs the garment bag with my wedding dress from the back of the car.
He leads me to the doorway, presses his thumbprint, then scans his eye at the panel set into the side.
When the door swings open silently, I gape. That was unexpected. It’s a lot of security, but I suppose, I shouldn’t be surprised. He did say he’s an international man of mystery.
He steps in, then glances at me over his shoulder. "I’ve registered your name in the system. Once you add your thumbprint and iris scan, you can come and go as you please."
I follow him to the reception desk with the porter and take care of the biometrics. "Welcome to Lion Mills, Miss." The balding, chubby-cheeked porter smiles. "I’m Alfred."
"Alfred?" I ask bemused.
He beams. "Just like Batman’s valet, Miss Hamilton."
He’s so friendly, I can’t help smiling back. "No doubt, you’re more distinguished.”
Alfred’s smile widens until his eyes seem to disappear. "Anything you need, feel free to call down to me, Miss."
"Soon to be Missus, actually," Connor interrupts.
“Oh!” Alfred’s face breaks into a grin. “Congratulations, Miss. And sir. And if I may say so—about bloody time.”
