“Mr Kersey, I do love your son,” I said, settling into the chair opposite him.“I don’t have any issues signing a prenuptial agreement if you feel the need to protect Gabriel.”
He didn’t look up.
“You’ve known him for less than six months. I’ve known him for twenty-two years,” he said, gathering the papers in his hands before hitting them against the desk with slightly more force than necessary.
He handed them across to me.
“Read and sign. But if you wish to reconsider this marriage, now would be the least complicated time to do so.” A pause.“Gabriel has a temper.”
“Yes, he does,” I said, taking the papers and lifting my chin.“It’s because he cares. He’s passionate. Marriage isn’t easy—I’m aware of that fact.”
My parents had their moments. Stress, financial strain, three children and two cultures colliding under one roof. It took its toll on everyone at times. That wasn’t dysfunction. That was just life.
“He told you what happened to his last fiancée?” Those blue eyes lifted through dark lashes.
“She cheated on him. I would never do anything like that.”
“When Gabriel is unhappy, he tends to share that.” Those cruel lips curved upward.“Passionately.”
Sheesh. I wonder why, with a father like this one.
“Then we won’t have a problem,” I said, lifting the papers to read them.
Silence ensued.
Uncomfortable. The kind that had weight to it.
When I glanced up, he was watching me. Not the papers. Not his desk. Me. He wasn’t smug, but I got the impression that he knew something—something important—and he wasn’t about to share it.
Just for a second a kernel of doubt entered before I shook it off.
I went back to reading the various clauses I didn’t fully understand.
I’d never need the prenup anyway.
Gabriel adored me and the feeling was mutual. My parents had been married for twenty-five years and had faced every kind of adversity. That was part of maturing. Part of love.
Gabriel was my forever.
Even as the tears fell, I ignored the urge to touch my eye. To fight the itch the tears caused. The memory of his fist connecting with my face should have broken my heart, but it had been broken in so many different ways, so many times, that there was nothing left to shatter.
My younger self had been so keen to prove him wrong that I’d missed the warning entirely.
His subtle warning.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I croaked.
“I tested the ground,” he said, resting his fingertips together.“There was no way you would have believed me.”
I thought I couldn’t feel shame anymore. But it flooded forth regardless. Asher could have told me Gabriel was a serial killer and I wouldn’t have believed him. Gabriel had painted a very specific picture of his father. Cold. Unloving. A man who had never been there.
“Will you help me?” I asked.
“Will you go back to him?”
I gasped.
But the longer I stared at him the more I understood why he’d asked.
