It was the fifth time before I even registered the jealousy that had been woven into Gray’s berating.
Strange faces threaded past me as I thought of his features and tone again and again, sure I had it wrong, but that jealousy was all I could hear or see.
And it had all those traitorous longings fluttering to life all over again.
Iforced myself to take slow, calming breaths before finally getting out of my truck and heading toward the street, briefly glancing at the large plantation house behind me as I did. We always stopped in to say a quickhelloto my cousin and his wife on our way to Amber’s festivals, since they were usually busy with their house full of guests, but I had the strongest urge to go inside and juststay. To get everything with Mallory off my chest to someone else.
Someone who didn’t already have their mind made up about the situation, like Thatch and Briggs did.
Ignoring the draw, I followed the pull that had always been stronger than any other, and continued in the direction my incredible, infuriating wife had gone.
I didn’t rush, and I didn’t worry about finding her. Even if she hadn’t left a trail of chaotic emotions in her wake, I’d always seemed to be able to find Mallory Monroe, even in crowds.
And sure enough, I found her a few minutes later. Facing away from me and standing still. The only movement was her ragged breaths that I could see even from my position.
“We didn’t go,” she said just as I was slipping up beside her, already knowing I was there, among the dozens of other people walking past her. At my questioning hum, she explained, “We always go into the house to see your cousin.”
My head bobbed slowly as I came to a stop in front of her, searching her blank stare and contemplative expression. “It’s all right. I’ve already seen them.”
She quickly blinked, pulling her away from whatever thoughts she’d been trapped in, and focused those blue eyes on me. “We just got here.”
I swallowed thickly as I debated how much to tell her, because the truth revealed just how badly I’d been struggling lately. Just when I settled on something vague and noncommittal, I found the truth slipping free instead. “When we haven’t had details, I’ve been spending my weekends in Amber or at my parents’.”
Surprise flashed across her features before understanding seemed to dawn there. But she still asked, “For how long?”
“Three months.”
She shifted uncomfortably—a completely un-Mallory-like trait—and cleared her throat as she glanced away. “So, there really is no reason for me to be here,” she said thickly, the words coming out more of a confirming statement than a question. “You would’ve come anyway.”
“Only go to these with you.”
The way she stilled spoke volumes, but she just gave a hesitant nod and uncertainly said, “Then let’s go.”
I forced my hand back to my side when I started reaching for her like it was natural, like touching her might be something I could do. Turning, I started down the street, passing rows of booths I knew we’d come back to later—we just always started with the ones run by my family.
We were silent as we walked side by side. Something about the action felt so familiar and would’ve brought a smile to my face if there wasn’t a weight clinging to us and slowly suffocating me.
But I was so distracted by her stiff posture and the way she was wringing her hands for probably the first time ever, of trying to gauge her expression and mood from second to second, that I nearly bowled someone right over.
A mumbled curse slipped from me as I grabbed the woman to make sure she stayed upright, all while trying to disentangle my legs from hers before either of us fell.
“Sorry,” I said as I released her once I was sure she was steady, then apologized again to the other woman she’d been standing with. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
The woman I’d run into flushed, a soft laugh leaving her as she teased, “Yeah, uh, you gotta be careful. Those booths sure can be distracting.”
A hesitant sound left me at the slight but obvious emphasis she put onbooths, letting me know we weren’t talking about the stalls surrounding us.
“Yeah, well,” I mumbled as I crouched to pick up the bag she’d dropped when I’d first run into her.
“So, is this the part where we exchange information?” she continued as I slipped the few items that had fallen out back into the bag.
I briefly looked at the meaningful smirk on the woman’s face before skipping over her friend’s amusement to land on Mallory. Mallory, whose hands were no longer wringing, and whose resignation tore at my chest as she longingly glanced in the direction we’d come.
“You know, just in case there’s damage,” the woman continued with feigned coyness. “For insurance purposes, ofcourse.” Directing her attention to the side, she unabashedly sized up Mallory. “Are you his sister?”
In the time it took for my heart to fumble over a strained beat, Mallory’s blue eyes hardened into ice and steel at the asinine assumption, considering we looked nothing alike, and narrowed on the woman. “I’m not his anything.”
If I’d thought I was losing Mallory at any point over the last three months, I’d been wrong. The way it felt like she shoved a dulled blade into my chest and twisted it with her matter-of-fact tone was proof I hadn’t even begun to lose her before this moment.
