Page 171 of Salvage Him
I followed him inside and stopped twostepsin.
Igasped.
The place wasn't breathtaking; it actually took my breath away—the aesthetics, the feel, all the minor details were carefully thought out. And some of them were myideas.
I blinked awaytears.
I covered my face with my hands. When I looked again, I folded my hands across my chest. I couldn'tspeak.
Heat flushed throughmybody.
Harrison walked farther into the house. He palmed the banister on the woodenstaircase.
My gaze followed the stairs up to the opened loft, and the exposed beams in theceiling.
My eyesnarrowed.
I spotted the structure in the backyard and ran to thewindow.
I laid my hands flat on the window and peered at the top floor that was allglass.
Harrison cheated on my house by building a better and more me version of my ownhouse.
I shivered, covered my face, andsobbed.
"Baby, what's wrong?" Harrison was at my side in seconds. He hated to see me cry, but these emotional outbursts were the price he had to pay for demanding I be open to him ineveryway.
"Nothing." I shook my head and shivered. I buried my head in his chest andcriedmore.
"Why are you crying?" heasked.
"I don't know." I tried to pull away, but he wouldn'tallowit.
"Brooklyn," he said in his dominantvoice.
"This place is fantastic,” I said as I wiped my tears on his t-shirt.
"Then why are you crying?" he askedagain.
"I don't know. It just so beautiful," I cried out. "It's the exact home I would havewanted."
"Wow. That's a relief." He held me at arm’s length. "Because it isyourhome."
"What?" Iblinked.
"This is our home,” he saidagain.
"Um." My stomach flipped. "What doyoumean?"
"Brooklyn." He shookhishead.
I wasn't playing dumb. I didn't get it. When did we build a home, and how could he build a home so perfect for us without me knowingaboutit.
I knew the answer. It wasobvious.
No one knew me better thanHarrison.
"Oh, my God." My hands flew over my mouth. I spun around in the living room a fewtimes.
