It’s all his fault. This man hasn’t just given me his heart. He’s given me everything. Breakfast in bed, shared showers, sex everywhere in the house with the cameras off, and Mary and Herbert dismissed for the day. Long walks along the Hudson River, we’ve had that and so much more than I could’ve ever expected.
During the few hours Duncan’s had to work, he’s asked me to sit beside him. I haven’t hesitated once before saying yes. He always smiles wide at my response.
He smiles even wider when I show up there empty-handed, no book or distraction in sight.
Why would I need any? The hottest man alive happens to be my soulmate. I’ll never miss out on a chance to watch his skilled fingers flex around a paintbrush. Or the little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes when he concentrates on applying a varnish just right.
His intensity bleeds into everything he does. It’s intoxicating.
Other than our happy moments, sharing our painful past has been a big part of our lives. When I ask him to tell me about the years we spent apart, my soul splits down the middle. His loneliness, his struggles, his heartache, I absorb it all, hurting alongside him.
And Duncan, he’s my rock, there to catch me when I fall. When I break down and apologize over and over for disappointing him, he just strokes my hair, pulls me close, and won’t let me say anotherI’m sorry, reminding me none of it was ever my fault.
“You’re here now, little moon. That’s all that matters. All I’ve ever wanted.”
He’s all I’ve ever wanted too.
I’ve never been anyone’s first choice. My parents always put the family as a whole first. Barclay, aside from the one time he saved me, mostly cared about himself. I had friends, but our relationships barely skimmed the surface.
Now, the man I chose chooses me just as fiercely.
So no, I can’t be blamed for staring out the window, waiting, hoping he’ll magically come home early.
While Mary’s out there, waiting for you?
“Oh my God,” I whisper to myself, turning to the door. “Yes, come in.”
She does, her eyes lighting up the moment they land on me.
“What?” I ask as a smile tugs at my lips.
“You know, I was going to ask if you were okay.” Mary sets down the tray on the end table between the two armchairs. “After being cooped up here for two hours and all.”
The water glass goes over a coaster. Silverware is set next to the plate, which is filled with filet and steamed vegetables.
She straightens once she’s arranged everything in its place.
“Thank you.” Though I’m not hungry, I sit on the chair Duncan bent me over this morning. Unfortunately, it doesn’t smell of sex anymore. “But?”
“But you look well,” she says like a proud parent would. “Really well, Miss Montgomery. Both of you do.”
I’m about to thank her again when Herbert knocks on the open door, a phone in his hand.
“Miss Montgomery.” He presses his hand to the receiver. “A phone call. For you.”
This isn’t Duncan. Herbert wouldn’t have said a phone call if that were the case. He’d have announced it was Mr. Rourke.
Dread lines the pit of my stomach. “W-Who is it?”
“Your brother,” Herbert says quietly, away from the phone.
My face goes numb. My tongue grows heavy.
He’s found me. Somehow, Barclay’s done it.
How?
Duncan assured me he couldn’t. That Duncan’s cell and landline numbers aren’t listed anywhere. The number on the invitation was a burner that I shredded and deleted.
