The pulse booms in my ears. My thoughts feel like they’re spiraling out of control.
I want to say yes. I do.
That I want her by my side. That without her, my life seems empty. I want to share it with her. I want her laughter, her smiles, her little sounds when she’s aroused to fill my heart and soul. I want. Her. That she’s mine. Only mine.
But when I open my mouth, the words don’t emerge. There’s a boulder on my chest stopping me from speaking.
I’m a fucking coward is what I am. I’m afraid that if I say those three words, it’ll change my life forever.
And then, there won’t be any going back. I’ll have made myself vulnerable. I’ll have handed my power to her. She could hurt me. Destroy me. And fuck, this is a pain that I won’t be able to bear. So, I stay silent.
Her features crumple. Disappointment filters into her face. "That’s what I thought."
She rises to her feet and heads over to the safe I have in the corner of the office. I shared the combination with her earlier, so she could access the recipe books I keep in there.
What is she doing?
She opens the safe, pulls out a sheaf of papers from it, then turns and walks over to me.
I realize it’s the marriage agreement we both signed.
The hair on the back of my neck rises. A cold sensation grips my chest. No, surely not. She wouldn’t.
She walks toward me.
With each step she takes, the band around my chest tightens.
She reaches my desk and slides the stack over. The whisper of the paper sounds like a gavel in the quiet of the office.
"I’ve kept up my end of the deal. You’ve got your inheritance. And your investors didn’t pull their money. No doubt, you’ll also find a way to convince them otherwise after this last fiasco."
I curl my fingers around the arms of my chair, refusing to accept what she’s hinting at.
"I’m returning your agreement. I think we should get divorced."
The world tilts off its axis. There’s a ringing in my ears. "What are you talking about?"
"I thought I could handle this." She swallows "But I can't. Every day I stay in this; I’m just waiting for a version of you that might never show up. It's starting to hurt too much to pretend, James. And I realized…I don’t want to settle for 'good enough.' I want the whole thing. I think I deserve that."
"You do." I reach for her hand, needing to touch her, but she steps back.
The distance feels like a physical blow.
My chest feels like my heart has been scooped out of it. I taste copper at the back of my mouth. There is a hollowness in my gut that has nothing to do with hunger.
She can’t do this. I won’t let her do this. How can I live without her? I manage to piece my thoughts together enough to say, "Harper, plenty of people have marriages like this. They work. They last a lifetime."
"Maybe they do." For the first time she looks at me with a kind of sad clarity. "But I don't want to just last. When we made this deal, I was desperate. I just wanted a roof over my niece's head and for my sister to finally have a break. I’d do it all again for them…but not like this. Not if the price is giving up on ever being loved back. I have to find another way to take care of them that doesn't leave me empty."
She takes a shaky breath, her gaze dropping to her hands.
"I’m grateful to you for clearing my debts. It’s the only reason I’m even brave enough to walk away."
I want to step closer but respect the space she’s put between us.
"Then use that freedom. We can make this whatever you want, Harper. You’re a brilliant chef." My voice drops an octave. "Stay, and I’ll put you in charge of your own kitchen within the year. You won’t have to struggle ever again."
Determination flickers in her eyes.
