Page 9 of Her Kensington
“Changed how?”
“She…turned into a psycho-bitch. I think it was the money. She grew up in a similar financial situation to me, her dad’s a successful investment banker, but she met some awful money-grabbing friends and she just spiralled. Everything became about what others thought. It was inevitable, I guess, but eventually, I wasn’t enough either. I knew something was going on but I never expected to find out she’d been cheating.” I suck in a breath.
“Did you know him?” I ask, almost expecting him to say it was his best friend or something.
“No. I knew of him, though. It hit me hard. I’m not ashamed to admit that I lost myself for quite a while. But time’s a healer and it wasn’t all that long before I could see I was better off.” I nod, because if she’s even half as bad as he’s making out, then he’s definitely better off without her.
“So what’s she got to do with you leaving me?” I ask, hoping coming at this from a slightly different angle will get me the answer I need.
“She’s always playing games, and this was just another one.”
My heart drops slightly because it doesn’t give me anything. “But—”
“Summer,” he says on a sigh, interrupting me. “I promise you’re going to find out what she’s like soon enough. I’m sure she’ll have a field day when she finds out I’ve remarried like this. Can we please just forget about her and everyone else for a few days? When we’re home you’ll probably be begging to return to this time when ignorance was bliss.”
Images of my own family and all the things I don’t really want to talk about fill my head and I reluctantly find myself agreeing. I guess he’s right. We’ve only got a few short days and everything I need to know will be right in front of me as I’m introduced as his wife. The thought of suddenly being thrust into his life has my stomach turning over. I’ve no idea where he lives, what his house is like. What if his family hates me? All the unknowns fill my head and my breathing starts to increase as the reality of what I’ve done once again hits me full force.
“Summer?” he asks, his warm palm covering my cheek.
“Sorry, I’m just being stupid.” Thankfully the flight attendant interrupts so I don’t have to explain my fears.
“Do you want a drink, beautiful?”
“Just a bottle of water, please.” I listen as he orders himself a gin and tonic and I once again lose myself in thoughts of what my life is going to be like now. Not only do I have a husband, but I’m about to move to a whole new country. My heart races as panic fills me once again. I concentrate on my breathing so Harrison doesn’t notice.
He pulls his laptop down to do some work and after an hour or so of sketching in my pad I curl myself up under a blanket and attempt to get some sleep. The sound of his tapping keys eventually sends me off.
* * *
“Summer…beautiful…”I open my eyes and it takes a few seconds to register where I am. The realization that I’m on a plane on the way to my honeymoon has butterflies fluttering in my belly. “Hey,” Harrison says with a smile when I find his dark eyes. “We’re going to be landing soon, sleepy head.”
“Wow, really?” I guess weeks of night shifts followed by a drunken wedding really took it out of me. I was dreading being stuck in one seat for so many hours but it seems the whole flight has literally passed me by.
“You need to put your seat up and strap yourself in for landing.” His instructions take a few seconds to register in my sleep-fogged brain but I’m soon jumping into action.
“Did you get all your work done?” I ask when I’ve got myself sorted and see Harrison’s laptop has gone, replaced by a Kindle.
“I’ve always got work to do. I guess I should warn you now that I work a lot of hours.” I guessed as much, but hearing him say it does make my stomach drop a little. “I promise not to abandon you once we get to London though. Plus, I know Mum and Danni will want to get to know you.”
“Danni?”
“My kid sister.”
I smile at him, my nerves about meeting his family hitting me once again, but knowing he has a younger sister makes me feel a little better. I always wanted a sister instead of my overprotective big brothers.
“How old?”
“Uh…twenty-three, I think.”
“Oh.”
“What?”
“It was just when you said, kid, I was thinking…well…kid. But she’s older than me.”
His mouth drops open to say something but he soon shuts it again. “Well, she behaves like a kid,” he eventually says.
“Right,” I mutter, feeling like a child myself as I sit next to my wealthy business-owning husband. If he thinks of his adult sister as a child, what does he think of me?
