Fuck. Of course.
I take my wallet out of my pocket and remove one of my cards. Holding it out to her, I say, “Just charge everything to this credit card.”
Yuki looks downright startled as she stares at my hand.
“Take it.”
Her hand trembles as she carries out the order.
“Come.” I walk through the rest of the house, and when I reach the guest room, I say, “This will be your bedroom.” I gesture to the walk-in closet. “There’s your luggage.”
She nods as she takes in the bedding, its pattern inspired by traditional ink wash art.
Weirdly, I feel nervous as I ask, “Are you okay with the temple and cherry blossoms design?”
Yuki’s eyes flit to my face. “Yes. Thank you.”
Tilting my head, I say, “If you want to talk to me, come find me. Until then, I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible, because I get the feeling I’m the last person you want to see right now.”
Yuki’s eyebrows draw together, but I can’t read her expression as she says, “You’re going to leave me alone?”
I nod while I let out a sigh. “All the stuff I’ve ordered for you is in the boxes in the garage. Use whatever you want and throw away what you don’t like.”
I turn to leave but pause and pull my phone out. “I’ll be at work a lot. Take my number in case something happens, and you need to get a hold of me.”
“I don’t have a phone.” She swallows hard before adding, “You took it from me at the airfield.”
Jesus.
Intense remorse slaps me upside the head as I’m once again reminded of the hell I inflicted on this woman.
“I’ll get you a phone tomorrow.” I walk to the doorway and stop again to look at Yuki. “I know it doesn’t mean anything, but I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you.”
Leaving, I head to my bedroom on the third floor. I chose this house because it’s similar to my parents’ place.
After shutting the door behind me, I sit down on the chaise, which is situated to the right of my bed, and let out a heavy sigh.
Rubbing my fingers over my forehead, the events of the day replay in my mind.
It doesn’t feel like I got married.
I stare at my suit jacket for a moment before I pull the piece of paper from the inner breast pocket. My eyes drift over the words and numbers, and learning that Yuki is only twenty-two years old, another sigh escapes me.
Jesus, she’s only a year older than Rosie.
Just to punish myself, I imagine someone torturing Rosie and forcing her to marry the bastard.
Anger burns through my chest, and in this moment, I hate myself.
You’ll do everything in your power to make things better for Yuki.
Chapter 13
Augusto
Knowing I’ll spiral if I keep thinking about things, I force myself to my feet to shower and change into a pair of jeans and a sweater.
With a comfortable pair of loafers on my feet, I leave my bedroom. As I head down the stairs, I wonder if I should make dinner for Yuki. She didn’t eat much at the reception.
