“And you have compelling arguments.”
“Is that a yes?” I hold my breath, only releasing it when she offers me a soft smile.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t ever have to thank me. Fuck, mi sol, everything I do is for you.”
Just forgive me when the time comes.
Just love me when you discover how flawed I truly am.
An imperfect man who loves you as if you were his missing piece.
I drag a hand down my face, blowing out a breath choked full of frustration. “It’s going to be three long days.”
“You’ll have me all to yourself for a while.”
The thought alone sends a rush of lust zapping through me. I will take full advantage of that. I will love her so hard that even if she doesn’t want to believe me, she has to.
“Good night, wife.”
“Good night, husband. Dream of me,” she murmurs, emotions spilling between words, making my truth overflow.
“I only ever dream about you.”
I don’t even care if I sound corny. My feelings for her have always been impossible to restrain. It’s beyond me to downplay them or keep from showing her. My love for her has been notorious from the very start. That’s why the disaster ensued—because my enemies were aware of my sole weakness.
Ignoring the late hour, I call my uncle, and his gruff voice greets me. “Good God, Vian. I need my sleep.”
“You’ll sleep for eternity soon,” I scoff, the reminder tasting bitter on my tongue.
“Sensitive as always, son,” he grumbles.
“You’re leaving me, so at least make sure everything is going smoothly in my absence. I will be away for my honeymoon.”
“Not out of choice, but you would have put me in an early grave.”
“Who did you say I take after?” He’s surely about to protest when I add, “I gave you my damn word. Let me have this.”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
“Enjoy it.”
“I will.”
I hang up, turning and tossing in bed, unable to find my place because mine is next to her.
21
ZARA
In my home office, Conrad and I celebrate closing a seventy-five-million-dollar deal. He pops champagne, the bubbles spilling over the two glasses, just like my unease.
I take one glass from his hand, and we clink to the successful deal, forcing a smile. I should be happy. Proud. Content. I’m a successful woman in a male-dominated field, but my thoughts dwell on revealing the puzzle image. I’ve never believed in coincidences, and I wonder if my brain is trying to tell me something.
That house is still on my mind, so going to the therapist is imperative, yet my heart latches on to the honeymoon, completely shutting the door to reason.
