Page 81 of Scandalous Kingpin
“Give him hell, sister,” he said softly. “Keep your phone on you. If you need me, I’ll come running.”
His words caused a knot of emotion to form in my throat. My brothers would never fully understand how much they meant to me. They’d all been my rocks this past month.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and huffed out a small breath, hoping to ease this tightness in my chest. “Thank you. I’ll be right back.”
I grabbed a jacket and stepped out into the fresh air. My boots squeaked in the mud as I made my way across the lawn, feeling the heat of my brother’s worried gaze on my back and my husband’s electric gaze on my face.
My pulse quickened, and with each step closer to him, I couldn’t help but hope that he was only a figment of my imagination. He still wreaked havoc on my heart, looking like an Adonis in black jeans and a green jacket, his blue eyes fevered.
Four feet… three… two… He was too much. Those eyes were pulling me in as oxygen grew scarce. I could barely breathe, my chest tightening to the point I worried there was a heart attack sneaking up on me.
Or maybe they were just the symptoms of a broken heart.
My feet faltered, a mere half a foot away from him, but the familiar scent of his cologne was all it took for feelings I thought had dissipated to come flooding in. My thunderous pulse roared in my ears as we stood in silence, staring at each other, enveloped in the Irish fog.
“Hi,” he said softly, his gaze locked on my face as if memorizing each line.
“You have to stop.” My own voice sounded blessedly calm. “You can’t keep hanging around here.”
He swallowed hard. “I miss you, angel.”
The words were a punch to the gut. I’d rather he didn’t say anything at all, because the betrayal wounds opened, threatening to bleed again.
I wrapped my arms around myself, glancing to the side. Looking at him was just too much.
“You have to leave, Christian,” I murmured.
“Please give me another chance.” I shook my head, scared my lips would betray me. “Our vows were forever, angel. For better or for worse. In sickness and in health.”
I exhaled a shaky breath, the memory of our wedding day tearing me apart. I meant those promises, but even then, he’d been holding back secrets of my athair’s death and my best friend’s betrayal.
“The trust is broken. How could I ever trust you again?”
“I thought I was sparing you from pain, but I can see now that I was wrong.” He swallowed hard, clearly struggling. But I couldn’t give him what he needed. If we didn’t have each other’s backs, what did we have? As if he could read my thoughts, he added, “I’ll do anything for a second chance, angel. Anything.”
A small part of me—okay, a big part of me—wanted to fall into his arms and put it all behind us. But deep down, call it woman’s intuition or whatever, I sensed there were more secrets, and I just couldn’t continue doing this for years to come only to end up in this same exact spot.
“I’m sorry, Christian, I can’t,” I murmured, and he exhaled a shaky breath, his brows drawn tight.
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“But you weren’t,” I whispered. “You were protecting your brother and Juliette. You didn’t trust my judgment. Would I have been upset? Probably. But at least I wouldn’t have felt betrayed by you. This isn’t even about Juliette. It’s about us. You.” He stared at me, his face stony. “You have buried yourself so deep into your shell that this”—I motioned with my hand between us—“will keep happening over and over again.” His face darkened while emotions flickered in his eyes. “Until I wake up one day hating you.”
Christian flinched. “You hate me?”
“No.” Tears blurred my eyes and emotions clogged my throat. “And I don’t want to hate you. But you ruined the fragilething we had, this bond of trust, and I can’t just pretend all is well. You need to work out your own problems and secrets. For your sake, Christian. So you can find happiness.”
I felt naked and vulnerable as we stared at each other. It wasn’t only him I had to resist but my own body that craved to hold him in my arms once more.
It turned out the therapy sessions I’d started attending after the whole ordeal were paying off, although every time I thought of Juliette, I wanted to start punching something. It wouldn’t be this man. He’d suffered enough. I immediately scolded myself for even caring. Christian was a big boy and he could take care of himself just fine.
“I don’t want children.” My eyebrows furrowed at the sudden, seemingly irrelevant admission. “I had a vasectomy done to ensure that. You said you wanted family, children, and I said nothing.” He reached for me, but before he touched my face, his hand curled into a fist before stuffing it into his pocket. “I didn’t tell you for fear of losing you, but I was an idiot.” A tiny tremble in his shoulder caught my eyes. “I should have told you about your athair, but I thought it’d—” Hurt filled his face and the veins in his neck pulsed, tension stretching his muscles. “You’re my happiness. My light. The reason my heart beats. Don’t leave me in the darkness.”
His eyes burned into mine, bright with pain and love. But there were ghosts there too, and I knew I couldn’t help him with those.
I shook my head, my whole being swelling with exhaustion. “You deserve to be happy, but I finally understand that I can’t give you what you need.”
He rubbed a fist over his chest, his heart. “I’ll wait.”
