Page 72 of A Convenient Secret
He chuckles and leans back on the balustrade. “My lawyer believes I have a better chance of fighting her if I am married.”
“Why?”
“He thinks she will use my workaholism, and the fact that the twins are with nannies most of their day, against me.”
“That’s preposterous.”
“If I believed in the fairness of courts, I wouldn’t be drinking tonight.”
The idea of him getting married, of bringing another woman to meet the kids, swipes through me with an unwarranted surge of jealousy.
“I’ll marry you.”
Chapter 15
Declan
Don’t accept. Don’t fucking accept.
Lily looks sick. Her eyes widen like she is as shocked as me by her words.
Don’t accept. Just don’t fucking accept. But I don’t seem to find the words, and she is gaping at me, and by the looks of it, mortified.
I can’t even blame it on the half bottle of whiskey I polished off at the office after the meeting with my lawyer. Her horrendous excuse for food and coffee sobered me up.
With gargantuan effort and self-discipline, I stayed away from her for weeks again. I have even stayed away from the security footage. Almost. Like a junkie, I had a few lapses.
I keep reminding myself that I’m too old for her. Though based on the number of inappropriately timederections every time I think about her, that argument seems ridiculous. I’ve turned into a teenager.
All my noble attempts went down the drain the minute I came home drunk and my legs led me to her like she was a magnet, charged to attract me.
She looked so beautiful in the flickering lights on my terrace. The sight hit me with a sense of possessiveness, with the need to claim her.
But somehow, we both resisted and behaved, achieving a new reluctant level in our co-habitation. Our fucked-up relationship unfulfilled.
She opens her mouth, and to prevent her from another word vomit, I interfere. “Why?” My brain was about to refuse her gently, but my mouth completely disconnects from reason.
Her eyes flash in surprise, and then she looks at the nighttime city as if the answer is written somewhere there.
“I need money.” She doesn’t look at me.
“You need money?” I repeat her words, because it seems like a trap. Or a lie. Or my head refuses to accept that this woman I think I know, whom I invited to my home and let care for my kids, may offer something for her personal gain. The scenario is too bitterly familiar.
At the end of the day, I don’t really know her. Do I? She is hot, and good with my kids, but she is hiding things.
Can I go through with this? It will solve an issue for me. And not much will change.
“Yes. We can help each other.” She lifts her chin. It’s an attempt to display confidence, but her gaze is still unfocused, darting around.
I should just shut this down. “Why?” I parrot instead.
“I just told you.”
“Why would you want to help me?” Just fucking refuse the idea finally, you jackass.
“I love Zach and Zoya.” Okay, I believe that. “And I need money. Look, it’s not my proudest moment to be in my situation… But we will all benefit… And look at your brother and Saar, or Cal and Celeste: they fake-married and…”
She trails off, probably realizing that those two couples are now happily married.
