Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 74487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
* * *
My hands fist nervously around the check, wondering at his reaction to it. I know that he loves me. Loves me in a way stronger than he ever felt for Cecile. It took a while for me to fully grasp and accept that. For me, I think I always knew how I felt. I was lost to him the moment I saw him, the moment his eyes followed me in the dark club. I was always his, and I finally believe that he is fully mine. To have. To hold. Till death do us part.
* * *
I hear the drag of gates, the crunch of tires, and know that he is here. Gripping the check, I stand and move to meet my husband.
* * *
He greets me with an easy smile, tossing a set of plans onto the side table and sweeping me into his arms. His hand gathers my hair, tenderly gripping it as his mouth takes my own, his free arm curving around and pulling me tightly into him.
* * *
I push gently against his chest, the hand holding the check squished between our bodies. “I need to talk to you.”
* * *
His eyes turn serious, his hand stilling on my hair. “What’s wrong? Is it your father?”
* * *
I shake my head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just need a minute with you.”
* * *
He tilts his head, a question in his eyes, and smiles warily. “Okay. Let’s go to the couch.”
* * *
He settles into the leather, looking at me expectantly. I sit on the ottoman before him, my hand gripping the folded check tightly. “There’s something I haven’t been honest about. Something I did a long time ago.” I hold out the check and he takes it, unfolding it slowly, his eyes scanning the paper’s surface before he looks up at me. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to explain. “I … When I found out about the money, the Bahamas … I thought you might leave me.” I pause, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I thought you’d want me to leave once you got the money, once I fulfilled my purpose. With my father, with his medical bills … I took some of the money. As a safety net. From CeeCee's account.”
* * *
He glances down at the check. “A four and a half million dollar safety net?” His voice is quiet, scarily so, devoid of any emotion, no clues in his tone.
* * *
I shrug weakly, panic increasing at his lack of reaction. “I’m sorry Nathan. I just couldn’t imagine Cecile not coming back. And I saw how much you loved her. I knew that I would lose that battle—that you would leave me and choose her. I could afford to disappoint myself, but I couldn’t re-abandon my father.”
* * *
He leans forward and gently lifts my chin, pulling my eyes to his. “I didn’t love her,” he says firmly. “I thought I did. But what we have? This is love.” He holds my gaze until I nod, then releases me, sitting back and looking at the check, his face tight. “Your father’s situation doesn’t excuse what you did.”
* * *
I swallow hard, my heart rate increasing. I had expected Nathan to be angry, had prepared myself for an argument, a practiced apology ready. But I didn’t expect, hadn’t prepared myself for any serious consequences. Not from the man who had proven day after day, in every moment of the last year, that he was head over heels in love with me. But now, looking at his tight face and hearing the granite in his words, the gravity of this situation hits me full force. I’d stolen millions of dollars from him. I’d kept a secret of enormous magnitude through a year’s worth of “I love you’s” and early morning cuddles. This is a sin that could cause our demise. I had flippantly expected forgiveness, never thinking of the horrific alternative.
* * *
He clears his throat. “But, neither did my situation excuse my behavior.” I blink at him, trying to understand his statement, my mind stuttering back and piecing his sentences together.
* * *
He leans forward, pulling me off the ottoman and onto his lap, cradling me in his arms, my head in the crook of his arm, looking up and into that gorgeous, impossibly perfect face. He furrows his brow, his finger tracing the line of my mouth as he speaks. “I did a lot of things during our first time together that I am ashamed of. You had every reason to hate me during that time. We, despite what was on paper, were not husband and wife. I was in no way, shape, or form, worthy of being called your husband. I wouldn’t blame you for anything you did during that time, especially if it brought you peace of mind or security.” He bends down, brushing his lips over mine. Then he pulls away, a smile tugging at his mouth. He taps the check gently on my chest. “This money?” He drops the paper, letting it fall gently on my shirt. “I always knew, Candy. CeeCee's statements have come to this address since the day I opened that account for her. I’ve known the balance of that account to the penny and watched it grow.”